


parker's recreation

by caramelcaramelcaramel



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Parents, Adult Peter Parker, Alcohol, Angst, Anyways, Background Character Death, Bisexual Michelle Jones, Break Up, Cheating, Drunk Sex, Fluff, Foster Care, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Lesbian Character of Color, Minor Character Death, Multi, Multiple Partners, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, Online Dating, PFFT, POV First Person, POV Michelle Jones, POV Peter Parker, Past Abuse, Porn With Plot, Post-Break Up, Slow Burn, Smut, Spideychelle, also i know the title is a play on parks and recreation, but i need to make it clear that i haven't watched more than three or four episodes of parks and rec, definitely not based on what i hoped would happen when i downloaded tinder, not the point, so this is def not a parks and rec au, this isn't me trying to manifest a loving and caring relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 76,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26152072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelcaramelcaramel/pseuds/caramelcaramelcaramel
Summary: Following a rough breakup, Peter's roommates, Liz and Harry, encourage him to get out more, starting with the classic: a Tinder profile. The first night he has it, he matches with MJ, 25, less than a mile away. She invites him over, and gives him her number the next morning.The two develop a close friendship, but both of them realize they want more. Unfortunately, they realize they want more at different times.(aka the fic w bad idea levels of smut)goherefor updates, early access to chapters, etc :)
Relationships: Brad Davis/Michelle Jones, Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker, Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Liz Allan & Harry Osborn, Liz Allan & Michelle Jones, Liz Allan & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Harry Osborn, Michelle Jones & Miles Morales, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Harry Osborn & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Gwen Stacy
Comments: 135
Kudos: 187





	1. it's a match!

**Peter**

“We’re going out.”

I looked up, and groaned. “Liz, no-”

“It’s not up for debate, Peter. You’ve been sitting on the couch, going through your camera roll for two weeks. It’s over. She’s moved on. Let’s go get drinks.”

My hoodie landed on top of my head, and I pulled it off to see Harry pulling his leather jacket on. “Come on, dude. A few drinks won’t hurt you.”

“Can you just let me wallow?”

“You had two weeks of wallowing!” Liz retorted. “You’re coming with us. Come on.”

“No.”

“You’re coming or you’re paying everyone’s share of the rent.” Harry raised an eyebrow at me, daring me to try him.

I sighed. “Fine. Drinks are on you.”

“Always are.”

I pulled my hoodie on and followed Liz and Harry out the door.

There was a bar about a block and a half down the street, so we walked over, found a table, and sat down. Liz and I got settled in at a table while Harry got a round of drinks.

“Give me your phone,” Liz said. It wasn’t a request. I was so taken aback, I was handing it over before I could even question her motivation. “We’re making you a Tinder.”

“Wait, no-”

She held it out of my reach the second I moved to grab it back. I considered blowing my cover to web it and pull it back into my reach, but decided a crowded bar wasn’t the best place to pull that stunt.

“Peter, you need to see a different pair of boobs.”

I glared at her. “Is that your professional opinion?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Peter, I studied my ass off to get through my undergrad for the express purpose of giving you dating advice. For free.”

Harry came back with two handfuls of shots, and carefully placed two shots in front of each of us.

“Geez, dude, what are you doing?” I asked.

“Oh, right.” He slid a shot from in front of Liz and a shot from in front of himself over to me. “Forgot about your metabolism.”

Liz laughed. I balked.

“I’m not doing four shots.”

“Yes, you are. Two shots isn’t going to touch you and you know it.”

“Ooh, wait. Lemme video this.” Liz held up my phone, flash on. “Go ahead.”

I took a deep breath, and then took all four shots. Liz and Harry cheered me on.

Liz lowered the camera while I scrunched my nose.

“Tequila? Really, Harry?”

“It gets the job done. Liz?”

Liz nodded. They both tapped their glasses against the table and took their shots in unison.

“Okay, Tinder profile. Let’s do it.”

Liz downloaded the app, and started to set up my profile.

“What’s your official job title again?”

“I’m a lab tech.”

“Right. Lab…tech…at…Stark…Industries. That alone should get you some matches.”

“Make sure you add MIT graduate,” Harry said.

“No, that feels like you’re trying to flex your alma mater. Peter, do you have any photos in your MIT sweater?”

“Uh…maybe?”

Liz sighed. “I’ll worry about that in a bit. We gotta sort out your bio. What are you looking for?”

“Someone who isn’t superpowered, ideally. That didn’t work out the last time.” It was meant to be a joke, but it fell flat. Harry and Liz both looked at me with the same concerned look.

“I’ll get a round of beers.”

“Vodka soda for me,” I said.

“Right. The usual. I’ll be right back.” Harry got up and walked towards the bar.

I turned back to Liz. “I don’t know what I want.”

She sighed, and started typing. She’d type for a bit, scrunch up her face, and then backspace and retype.

Harry came back, carrying two beers and my vodka soda. He placed it in front of me.

“It’s a double.”

“Thanks.”

“How’s the tinder profile coming along?”

Liz looked up at him. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Here.”

He took my phone from her hand and started typing. Liz gave me a sideways glance that screamed, _“This oughtta be good.”_

I took a sip of my drink.

He handed it back to Liz.

“Okay, no.”

“What? It sums him up!”

“No, Harry, it sums you up.”

“Can I-”

They both ignored me, and continued to bicker over my Tinder bio.

Eventually, Liz won out on the logic that she knows what girls like better than Harry because she is a girl (rather than simply fucking a lot of girls) and finished my bio and fished through my camera roll for photos.

“Peter, there are no useable photos of you.”

“Yes there are!”

“No no. There’s a formula to this. No sunglasses, maximum of one group pic but it has to be one where you look the best, two normal photos, two activity photos, and if you had a dog, one photo with the dog.”

Harry scoffed. “I just have one shirtless mirror pic on my profile.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “And that’s why you can only pull one night stands.”

“Yeah, that’s why I did it. Peter isn’t going to want to find a wife right away.”

“Just use my grad photo and that photo from our hike last month,” I interrupted.

Liz sighed, but did it and handed my phone back to me. “Swipe away.”

The first girl that showed up was way too young. “Uh, Liz? I do not wanna be matching with eighteen year old girls.”

“Oh, yeah, here.”

She took my phone and fixed the age range, and handed it back to me.

The three of us huddled around my phone as I swiped left and right.

“Ooh, she’s gorgeous!”

The girl in question was MJ, 25, a journalist for the Daily Bugle. She had a slightly lighter complexion than Liz, long curly hair, and just…a beautiful face all around.

Her bio read: “acab, stan spider-man instead”

“I think you have to swipe right based on the bio alone,” Harry teased.

So I did.

And we matched.

It prompted me to message her, and I froze.

“What are you doing? Say something!” Liz said. “If you don’t, I will. She’s beautiful.”

Just then, I got a message from her.

_MJ: hey :)_

I blinked. “Oh, god.”

“He’s hopeless, Liz. He may as well be a eunuch.”

Liz smacked Harry’s arm. “Leave him alone, he hasn’t been single for years. Here, Peter, I’ll message her back for you.”

“Thank you.” I let out a sigh of relief and handed her my phone.

She typed out a message, and handed it back to me.

_Me: hey, how’s your Saturday going?_

I looked at Liz. “Isn’t that cheesy?”

She shrugged. “No non-cheesy way to go about it.”

_MJ: ngl it’s been boring. hence being quick to respond lol_

“She uses ‘hence’,” Harry said, turning up his nose a bit.

“She’s a journalist, Osborn, she’s got a vocabulary.”

I typed out a message, and showed Liz. She nodded.

_Me: it says you’re less than a mile away. do you by any chance live close to the garage?_

_MJ: as in the bar on 50 th and 207th?_

_Me: that’s the one_

_MJ: I live down the block lol_

Harry took a sip of the beer. “Invite her out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! Why not?” Liz added.

I took a breath.

_Me: my friends and I are here rn. do you wanna join us?_

_MJ: nah I think I’ll stay in. do you wanna join me?_

I blinked. “Is this a trap?”

“Say yes!” Liz encouraged.

_Me: as long as you’re not a serial killer_

_MJ: nah, I’m not if you’re not ;)_

“Is she flirting with me?” I asked.

“She just invited you over to her place at…half past eleven. Yeah, she’s flirting,” Harry said.

_Me: what’s your address?_

She sent me her address, and I finished my drink.

“Wait, before you walk over there,” Liz said, digging in her purse, “take these.”

She handed me three condoms. The ribbed kind.

“I- I don’t think-”

“That’s exactly what she invited you over for, Peter. Take the condoms, get laid, tell us about it over breakfast tomorrow.” Harry’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. I took the condoms and put them in my pockets, standing up.

The bar spun for a second. Yep, I was drunk.

“Alright, uh. I’ll see you guys…tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Liz confirmed. “You have your keys?”

“Yes, _mom_.”

She rolled her eyes. “Have fun!”

“Don’t get her pregnant!” Harry called after me. The two of them laughed, and turned back to each other and their drinks as I headed out of the bar.

I walked out onto the street, and walked two buildings over and into the lobby. She buzzed me in, and I took the elevator up.

I was shaking. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t the guy who matched with girls on Tinder and just went over to hook up.

Was I letting the breakup affect me this much? Was I becoming someone I didn’t like?

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out, walking down the hall to find her apartment. 122c.

I knocked on the door, and it opened immediately. There she stood, in a baggy t-shirt, hair falling around her shoulders, half a smile already on her face. The lighting in her apartment was warm and inviting.

“Peter.”

“MJ.”

She smiled, stepping aside to let me into the apartment. “Um, would you like a drink?”

I laughed. “I’ve had several.”

“Well, then, I better have one or two. I don’t wanna be taking advantage of you.”

She went over to her fridge and pulled out a can, cracking it open. “Do you want water?”

“I- uh- please.”

She giggled a little, pouring me a glass of water and handing it to me.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

She led me to her couch and we sat down.

“Um, so, you work for Stark Industries.”

I nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I interned for them in high school, and they gave me a scholarship for MIT and hired me after I finished my degree.”

“Wow. You impressed someone.” She leaned closer.

She really was beautiful. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips were just a little shiny.

“Did you ever meet the Avengers?” MJ asked, clearly teasing a little. She wasn’t really looking for a serious answer.

Chuckling, I shook my head. “I do some of the work around that program, like making web fluid and stuff like that.”

She blinked. “Oh, shit, the webbing is fluid?”

“Yep.”

“That’s so cool. How do you make it?”

I started to open my mouth, and she shook her head.

“Sorry, forget I said that. You’re probably not allowed to say.”

“It’s alright,” I said. “Um, you work for the Bugle.”

“Right. Um, it’s…super boring.”

I looked at her, and she dropped her gaze, smiling a little at her can of what I thought was hard lemonade.

“I mostly write for the advice column.”

“You’re ‘Ask Mary?’”

“It’s a pseudonym,” she laughed. “Not a good one, either, but I didn’t want anyone I knew to know.”

“Why not?”

She bit her lip. “Because most of it is giving sex advice. I mean, it started as relationship advice, but now…”

“Sex sells,” I said.

“Exactly.” She took a sip. “And, uh, my parents are pretty religious.”

“Oh. That would do it.”

She laughed. “Yeah.”

There was a pause. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable. It was somewhere in between.

“Um, have you read it?” she asked, taking a gulp of her drink.

I shook my head. “Not a lot. I’ve seen bits and pieces-”

“What kinds of bits and pieces?”

I blinked. _Oh, you know, just the bits about how to ask your boyfriend to eat you out better._ _Or how to give a good blowjob. Or where to buy handcuffs_. “Um, some of the relationship stuff, earlier on.”

She smirked at me. “You’re a bad liar.”

I sighed. “I get that a lot.”

“It’s cute.”

Suddenly, she was taking my glass out of my hand, putting our drinks on the table, and climbing into my lap.

This was a welcome change of pace.

“Did you want to…?”

I nodded, maybe a little too eagerly, and then her lips landed on mine.

They were soft, and tasted like lemonade and vodka. Her arms were sliding over my shoulders, wrapping around my neck, giving me goosebumps. I let my hands land on her waist, and then slowly drift down to her hips.

I’d been so unsure, but now I needed her.

The kiss was heating up, and MJ’s hands were moving to the hem of my shirt, lifting it. I adjusted, breaking the kiss, and she lifted it over my head before leaning back into the kiss.

Her hands trailed over my chest, and slowly drifted down my stomach.

I slid my hands up her thighs, pushing the t-shirt up, catching shorts on my fingers. I hesitated, and her lips left mine and went to my ear.

“Don’t be shy.”

That was all the permission I needed. I pulled her shirt up over her head, and pulled her shorts down as far as I could without pushing her off of me.

She wasn’t wearing a bra. I don’t know why I expected a woman who was alone in her apartment late at night to be wearing a bra, but it shocked me for a moment when I saw her bare chest.

MJ took the opportunity to unzip my jeans, and started kissing along my jaw. My hands trailed up and down her back, her waist, over her hips.

“You wanna go to my bedroom?”

I glanced to the side and saw two doors. “Which one is it?”

“Closest to us.”

I grabbed her and lifted her, standing up. She kissed my neck as I carried her into the bedroom, and dropped her on the bed. I pulled her shorts and panties off, tossing them aside. I pulled the condoms out of my pants, and then dropped them and my boxers, kicking them aside.

“Oh, shit, are those ribbed?”

I nodded.

“Bonus points,” she teased.

I laughed, and then lifted her legs onto my shoulders, and ducked between her legs.

Tentatively, I licked over her clit, slowly, and relished in the way she shivered, my name a soft whisper on her lips. I did it again, with a little more force this time, and she sighed.

I wondered how many times I could make her cum tonight.

I sped up my motions, my hands spreading her legs, and her hands found their way into my hair. Using more saliva, I flattened my tongue against her, and kept it gentle. Based on her grip on my hair tightening, I was doing something right.

She grabbed my hand and guided it higher up her thigh, until it was pressed against my cheek.

 _Oh_.

Positioning my hand under my chin, I looked up at her. She was looking at me, and just whispered, “Please?”

I eased two fingers into her, and her head fell back onto the bed with a soft moan.

My fingers eased in further, and I curled them, gently pumping, searching for the g-spot as I went. I could feel a spongey area, and pressed. MJ’s back arched and she moaned louder.

Good to know.

I kept going, slowly licking at her, fingers pumping in and out, gently pressing into her g-spot every so often.

“Faster,” she breathed.

I sped up, pressing my fingers against her g-spot harder, and she yelped.

“D-don’t stop.”

Maintaining the rhythm, I looked up at her again. She looked absolutely lost in ecstasy. Her back arched up off the bed, her fingers pulled at my hair, and she got louder and louder, moaning and calling out my name.

After a moment, she relaxed, quieting, fists unclenching in my hair, back settling onto the bed.

“Fuck, Peter.”

I pulled away. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Um, give me a moment, and we can keep going.”

“Do you need a water break?”

“Maybe.” She chuckled a little, propping herself up on her elbows.

“I got it,” I told her.

“Thanks!” she called after me, as I left the room and grabbed our drinks from the living room.

I returned, can and glass in hand, and handed her the can. She sat up, cross legged, and took a long drink. I sipped at the water.

“So, uh, where’d you learn to do that?” She was teasing, raising an eyebrow at me, daring me to name her column.

“Are the techniques that recognizable?”

She laughed. “No, but I know you’re a bad liar, so I figured I’d get the answer out of you. And I did.” She took another sip, smug energy radiating off of her.

I liked her.

“It was a mix of the column and a very demanding girlfriend.”

“Demanding?”

I took another sip of water. Couldn’t hurt to hydrate before we continued. “She was quite the character.”

“How long ago did that end?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“Oh, shit, that’s recent. How long were you two together?”

I had to think about it. “Uh, it was on and off, sort of, since high school. And then we were pretty solid for about a year and a half there, but then it just kind of…”

“Fell apart?”

It was a little more complicated than that, but I nodded anyways.

“Right. I’ve had those. Not nearly as long as, what, you’re 24, so…six plus years?”

“Yeah, about six and a half.”

She shrugged and took another sip. “You’re probably better off. On and off things never work out in the end.” She put her can down on her nightstand, and looked at me. “You wanna keep going?”

I set my glass down and climbed onto the bed, pushing her down onto her back and kissing her. She kind of giggled against my lips before kissing me back, her hands wrapping around the back of my neck.

My hand snaked between us and I circled her clit with my fingers. She was still slick from her orgasm, and moaned softly when I applied pressure.

“Peter, grab a condom,” she mumbled.

Don’t have to tell me twice.

I got off of her and grabbed one off the floor by my jeans, tearing it open and rolling it on. She shifted, and when I moved to get back on top of me, she pushed me over, so I was sitting with my back against the headboard. She kissed me, straddling my lap, hovering just over my dick.

“Mm, MJ, can you-”

She interrupted me, kissing me again.

Part of me wanted to flip her over again, but I was kind of just…enjoying this. Who doesn’t want a gorgeous naked girl on top of you?

She started to sink down onto me, and fuck, she felt good. Warm and wet and _tight_. She dropped her head onto my shoulder and moaned a little. She was sinking down way too slowly for my liking, so I snapped my hips. Her whole body jerked and she cried out.

I grabbed her hips, and helped her as she started to ride me, taking her weight off of her legs.

“You feel so good,” I whispered into her ear.

She kissed my neck. “You too,” she breathed.

She sped up, and I let out a groan. I could feel her smug smile against my skin.

I took a hand off her hip and slipped it between us so I could massage her clit. Her movements stuttered for a moment, and I felt her tighten around me as she continued.

“Good girl,” I sighed, “Just like that.”

Her nails dug into my biceps. I took it as a good sign.

I snapped my hips in time with her, taking some of the work off of her, mostly because I wanted to make her cum again. She got louder again, and lifted her head off my shoulder in favour of pressing her forehead to mine.

“Hey,” she breathed, smiling.

With a thrust, I responded, “Hey.”

Her hands moved from my arms to my shoulders, nails digging in again. Her eyes fell shut and she moaned, slow and drawn out, as I kept thrusting and massaging her clit.

“So good,” she mumbled, as a note to herself more than a praise of my performance.

“You wanna cum again for me?”

She looked at me, and smiled. “You wanna earn it?”

I flipped us over, and grabbed her hands, pinning her wrists above her head. I managed to hold them with one hand, and moved my free hand back to her clit.

“How’s this?”

“Harder.” It was a dare.

I fucked her as hard as I could without worrying about hurting her, letting go of her wrists to support my weight with my forearm, and within a few seconds, she was crying out, back arching off the bed. She was chanting “don’t stop” and “fuck” and “please” and “Peter” and dragging her nails over my back. Her muscles tightened around my cock and felt absolutely heavenly.

The orgasm started to pass, but I didn’t slow down. Part of me wanted to make her cum again, part of me wanted to cum myself because _fuck_ she felt amazing.

She started to squirm, and I wrapped my hand loosely around her neck. “Who said we were done?”

She narrowed her eyes at me, but it took one thrust angled up into her g-spot for her eyes to roll back. “Choke me.”

I paused, and she whined.

“Are you going to ask nicely?”

She turned her face away. God, she was pretty. “Please choke me.”

“Better.”

I squeezed the sides of her throat and fucked her hard. I lifted a finger to turn her face back to me.

“Be quiet for me, Em.”

“Peter-”

I squeezed tighter, careful to only squeeze the sides so I didn’t actually cut off her air, and she stopped. I watched her mouth open and only heavy breathing escape as I kept going.

Her back started to arch again, and her fingernails dug into my back more, enough to leave marks. But she stayed quiet.

“Good girl,” I whispered. “Cum for me.”

And she did, tightening around me again. I groaned as it sent me over the edge, barely managing to keep up pace through my own orgasm.

Both of us finally came down from the high.

“So,” she huffed, “nice to meet you. Michelle Jones, but everyone calls me MJ.”

“Peter Parker,” I breathed, half laughing. “Nice to meet you too.”


	2. pillowtalk

**Peter**

The sun falling across my face woke me up in the morning, and I flinched. I was so used to having light-blocking blinds that wouldn’t trigger my light sensitivity.

MJ was laying on me, head on my shoulder, legs draped over me, curls tickling my neck.

I shifted, trying to face away from the window without waking her, but she groaned, blinking her eyes open slowly.

“Sorry, sorry, go back to sleep,” I whispered.

“Mm, it’s okay,” she grumbled, rolling onto her back and rubbing her eyes. “Morning.”

“Good morning.”

“How’d you sl-” she yawned, and held up a finger, telling me to wait a moment, “-sleep?”

“Pretty good,” I answered, fighting off a yawn. Gotta love yawn contagion. “You?”

She sat up and stretched. “Well, you wore me out, so I slept like a baby. Do you want coffee?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

She went to her closet and pulled on a fancy-looking robe, and left the bedroom.

I slowly got up, squinting against the sunlight, and found my pants on the other side of the bed.

When I walked out of her bedroom, she was standing in the kitchen, making French press coffee.

“Um, your shirt is still on the couch.”

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” I found it draped over the back of the couch, and pulled it on.

“Do you take your coffee with milk or sugar or anything?”

“Um, enough milk and sugar that it doesn’t taste like coffee.”

She laughed and nodded, pulling two mugs out of the cupboard. One had the dopamine chemical structure on it, and the other said “My House, My Rules, My Coffee”, like the one from _Knives Out_.

“You look hungover,” she remarked. She wasn’t even looking at me, she was pulling milk out of the fridge.

“What?”

“You’re squinting and there’s barely any light in here.”

 _Oh, shit._ “Oh, yeah. I had…several shots at the bar.”

“I figured.”

I blinked. She snorted.

“You’re adorable.”

Knowing better than to scowl or try to look intimidating, I just leaned against the counter. “You too.”

“I’m not adorable,” she countered. “I’m pretty, but I don’t quite fall into the ‘cute’ subcategory.”

“What are the subcategories?”

She poured coffee into the mugs. “I don’t know that it’s really concrete subcategories as much as a spectrum. Or, like, one of those political alignment charts with the four sections.”

“Continue.”

“So the top and bottom ones are ‘nonthreatening’ and ‘threatening’, and the left and right ones are ‘provocative’ and ‘wholesome’.” As she spoke, she mixed milk and sugar in the mugs, and handed me my coffee.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. So if you fall into nonthreatening and provocative, you’re beautiful, if you fall into threatening and provocative, you’re sexy, if you fall into nonthreatening and wholesome, you’re cute, and if you fall into threatening and wholesome, you’re, like, Heather.”

“Heather?”

She took a sip of her coffee, raising an eyebrow at me. “Like the Conan Gray song?”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, fair point.” I sipped at the coffee. It was delicious. “So you’d fall into beautiful.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re not threatened by me?”

“Why would I be threatened by you?” I asked.

“Most guys are threatened by confident women.”

I shook my head and took another sip. “You being confident doesn’t affect me. Well, apart from being bold enough to invite me over after very few Tinder messages. But that definitely affected me in a good way.”

She giggled. “Fair point.”

“Also,” I said, “I was largely raised by a single woman, taught by female teachers, one of my biggest mentors is Pepper Potts…”

“Right. Makes sense. So you’d consider yourself a feminist?”

“Obviously.”

“Okay, good.” She sipped at her coffee. “I didn’t wanna deal with the ‘I fucked a misogynist’ regret.”

“Is that a real thing?”

“Very real. I found that putting ACAB in my bio filtered out some of the trash.”

It was a good technique. “I might have to do that.”

“Definitely recommend.” Her phone buzzed on the counter, and her eyes widened. “Oh, shit, okay, I gotta kick you out, I’m sorry. I’m getting called into work.”

I took the last gulp of coffee, and set the mug down by her sink. “Yeah, no, no problem-”

“I’m so sorry-”

“No, it’s fine-”

“I really enjoyed this morning. And, um, last night.” She was starting to run around the apartment, mug down on the counter, phone in hand, looking high and low for something. “I’ll send you my number.”

 _Oh_. That was a good sign that I wasn’t expecting.

“O-okay.”

She looked at me, eyes wide. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you not-”

“No, I did, I just didn’t think you’d wanna keep in contact.” I suddenly felt very awkward, just standing by the door, shoes half on.

“No, I do, I just really do have to run out. Okay, um, you know how to get out of the building?”

I opened the door. “Yep-”

“Take a left to get to the elevators-”

“I got it, MJ. Have a good day.”

“Yeah, you too!”

She waved goodbye, and ran off into her bedroom. I stepped out of the apartment, closing the door behind me.

I felt like myself again. Happier.

\---

I got home, walking into the apartment quietly, hoping Liz and Harry would still be asleep. I felt 15 again, sneaking back into my own room so May wouldn’t catch me in the suit.

“You look like a mess.” Liz sat up from the couch, grinning at me.

I almost jumped out of my skin. “Jesus!”

“Did you not sense me there?”

“No!”

Harry stumbled out of his room, shirtless and rubbing his eyes. “What the fuck are you guys yelling about? Some of us are hungover.”

“Peter was just about to tell us about his sexcapades,” Liz announced.

“He does look like a mess.”

“Damn, guys, I just got home.” I fake pouted as I headed into my room. I left the door open a crack so we could talk while I changed.

“How was it?” Liz pressed.

“It was good! She’s really cool.”

“Wait, you talked?” Harry still sounded groggy, and I almost felt bad for waking him up. Almost.

“Yeah, a little bit last night, and then we had a good conversation this morning.”

Harry didn’t let it go. “What about?”

I pulled on a clean shirt. “Um, work and stuff.” I was intentionally avoiding mentioning that I told her about my ex.

“Oh, alright, that’s harmless.” And he dropped it.

But Liz wouldn’t. “What other stuff?”

“Uh, coffee, categories of pretty, feminism-”

“You’re gonna get attached.”

“No, I’m not-”

My phone buzzed with a new Tinder message. I opened it to see MJ’s number, and another message below it.

_MJ: sorry I ran out on you, I’ll let you win in cup pong later ;)_

“What was that?”

“She sent me her number.”

Liz and Harry both groaned.

“Don’t you dare text her,” Harry said. “You’re gonna catch feelings.”

I pulled on sweatpants. “I don’t think I’m quite capable of that right now.”

“Prove it.”

“Harry, how the hell am I supposed to prove-”

“Hook up with a new girl next weekend.”

I opened the door. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious, Peter. You couldn’t hook up with other people when you and Jess were ‘taking a break’ for six months. Do it now.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

\---

Saturday rolled around, and Harry and Liz and I walked down to the bar again.

Now, admittedly, I did take MJ’s number and play a couple of games of cup pong with her over text, both of which she won, but not much happened beyond that. So I felt good walking into the bar again, knowing I’d been good enough last weekend to warrant a number and some communication.

Harry texted someone, and a few minutes later, a very pretty girl walked in and smiled at us. Harry waved her over, and she made her way to our table.

“Hey Harry, what’s up?”

“I just wanted you to meet my friend here, Peter. Peter, this is Cindy.”

She smiled at me. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you, too. Can I buy you a drink?” I offered.

She agreed, so I got up, and we made our way to the bar to order drinks.

**MJ**

Despite it being a Saturday, I’d spent most of the day working. There were tons of submissions for the column, and I hadn’t gotten the chance to sift through everything yesterday, so I spent the day at my laptop, going through sex question after sex question, trying to decide which ones to answer in the next week.

It took me all day, apart from the hour I took off to shower and eat, and when I finally picked out 21 to answer in the next week, I decided it was time for a drink.

Unfortunately, I’d finished everything alcoholic in the apartment. Somehow, no part of my brain had considered that I hadn’t gone to the liquor store in the past month and a half.

Fuck it. I needed to get out anyways.

I did my makeup, picked out an outfit, and walked down to the bar.

It was busier than usual tonight. There was a small line forming outside. I walked straight up to the bouncer.

“Hey, Miles, what’s up?”

He grinned at me, and held out his fist. I bumped it. “I’m good, Jones, what have you been up to?”

“Same shit as always.”

“Yeah, yeah, go on in.” I smiled, and started to head on in, earning a glare or two from the guys standing in line. “Oh, and lunch on Monday?”

I nodded. “Yep. Got lots of tea for you, don’t worry.”

He chuckled. “Sounds good. Have fun.”

“Thanks, dude.”

I walked in, and immediately saw Peter at the bar, talking to a girl while they sipped at their drinks. I caught his eye, and he smiled at me. The girl he was with looked back at me. Now she was Sexy with a capital S. Long silky hair, mini skirt and a bralette, false lashes, and dripping confidence.

I smiled back at him, and turned my attention to the bar, trying to catch the attention of the bartender as she flirted with another customer.

Some guy walked up next to me, and waved down the bartender. Her eyes lit up and she headed on over.

“What can I get for you, Harry?”

“I’ll have two pints of beer and whatever this lovely lady wants.”

I realized he was talking about me. “Oh, that’s okay, I’m not looking for-”

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to hit on you. I’m Peter’s roommate.”

Had he talked about me? “Oh.” The bartender looked at me expectantly. “I’ll have a vodka cran, thanks.”

“Yeah, no prob. On the tab?”

Harry nodded, and then turned to me, extending his hand. “Harry Osborn.” Norman Osborn’s son. I’d written a piece about him when he got caught paying off union reps so he could underpay workers. Harry’s life was underreported on, and I suspected that also had to do with some bribery.

Shaking his hand, I said, “Michelle Jones, but my friends call me MJ.”

“Nice to meet you, MJ. You didn’t come here to meet anybody tonight, did you? I don’t want to intrude on your evening.”

“No, no, I just came out for a drink or two.”

“You wanna come sit with Liz and I?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Your girlfriend…?”

“Oh, god, no. Liz is the other roommate.”

“Right. Okay. Sure.”

He turned and leaned against the counter of the bar, and pointed at a table towards the back. There an absolutely drop-dead gorgeous girl sitting there, scrolling on her phone.

“That’s Liz back there.”

“Are you sure she’s just a roommate?” I asked. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t checking her out.

“Oh, she doesn’t swing that way.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. She didn’t throw off gay vibes at a first glance, but when I looked closer, I saw the cuffed jeans.

Subtle. I could appreciate it.

“Here you go,” the bartender said.

Harry picked up the beers, and I took my drink, and we headed to the table.

Liz glanced up, and grinned. “Hey! I’m Liz.”

I sat down. “I’m MJ. Well, Michelle Jones, but MJ.”

“Uh, I’m sorry about Harry-”

“I didn’t do anything!” he protested.

“What are you apologizing for?”

Liz sighed. “Harry has a habit of hitting on anything with a pulse.”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t hit on you!”

“That’s because you know you’ve got less than no chance.”

“He didn’t hit on me.”

“Bro code,” Harry said. “Same way I didn’t hit on Cindy because I knew I was going to set her up with Peter.”

Liz rolled her eyes. “Happens once in a blue moon.”

“So, I have a question,” I interrupted, before the two of them could continue to bicker like an old married couple.

“You’re allowed one,” Harry said, taking a sip of his beer.

“How did you both recognize me immediately?”

Liz looked at Harry. “Did you not tell her?”

He shrugged.

“We helped- well, I set up Peter’s tinder, and Harry and Peter were the peanut gallery. So we were there when he swiped right on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you?”

“Liz would’ve swiped right on you if Peter hadn’t,” Harry said.

I shrugged. “I probably would’ve swiped right on her.”

Liz grinned. “Why thank you, I appreciate the ego strok-”

“Oh, look at that girl over there,” Harry interrupted, eyes locked on a redhead in a minidress across the bar.

She was stunning, to her credit.

“Do you need a wingman?” Liz asked.

“Nah, I’m good.” He took his drink and left the table.

Liz turned back to me. “So, I gotta ask you something.”

“Go for it.”

“How was Peter?”

I frowned. “Like…in general…or…?”

“In bed. I’m not curious for my own personal benefit, obviously, I’m just…curious. His ex was always really critical of him, but it always sounded like she was having a good time when ever I happened to be up at three in the morning.”

I snorted. “Okay, well, we don’t have time to unpack all of that-”

She laughed.

“No, he was really good. I mean, he’s a guy, so I was expecting to be disappointed but, um…”

Liz narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you finish?”

“Three times.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow. That’s not bad.”

“Not at all.”

Liz glanced past me, towards the bar. “Cindy should have fun tonight.”

I laughed.

\---

Harry ended up leaving with the redhead, and Peter took Cindy home soon after. Liz and I were up until last call, on our fifth or sixth drinks and still oversharing our life stories.

“Do you wanna just stay with me?” I asked as we got up and ready to go. “I don’t want you to walk home alone, or have to hear Harry and Peter all night.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Oh, for sure. And I know the bouncer, so he can probably walk us back to my building.”

“That’d be great, thank you!” She hugged me, swaying when she did. “Ugh, I love you.”

I grinned as we hugged. _I love drunk girls. Always the sweetest._

“I love you, too. Come on, let’s go.”

Miles did end up walking us home. He never minded, because I lived so close that he could be back in time to throw the last couple of drunk assholes out before locking up. He winked at me as Liz and I got into the elevator, and I rolled my eyes.

“Do you wanna come out to the club with my friend and I next weekend?” she asked, leaning against the wall and sending a text. “Betty and I try to go out for a girl’s night once a month, but since her sister moved and Peter broke up with his girlfriend it’s just gonna be us.”

“Wait, Betty Brant?” I asked.

Liz nodded.

“I work with her.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, yeah, you work at the Bugle!”

I nodded.

“So, do you wanna come, or do you and Betty have some workplace rivalry?”

I shook my head, and made myself dizzy. “Nope, all good. I’d love to.”

“Wait wait wait, I…need your number.”

“Ooh, okay, yeah. Here, gimme your phone.”

She handed it over. I typed it in, which took a couple of attempts, and then sent a text to myself so I’d have hers.

We got out of the elevator, and I showed her to the bathroom so she could wash her face, and set her up on the pull-out couch, moving the coffee table and grabbing blankets and pillows.

“Aww, you didn’t have to do that,” Liz said, coming out of the bathroom. “I would’ve been fine.”

I shrugged. “I spent extra for a pull-out couch, I might as well use it.”

She hugged me again. _Big hugger. Got it_. “You’re so sweet. I’m so glad you walked into the bar tonight. I feel like we’re gonna be really good friends.”

“I’m glad we met, too,” I mumbled. She smelled good. Like raspberries and honey.

“Thanks for having me over even though I’m basically a stranger.”

“Well, you told me about your dad going to jail, so…”

She laughed. “Fair enough.”

I left the living room, to give her some privacy as she got into bed, and went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

It felt weird to be incorporated into a friend group when I only know them because I fucked one of them, but at the same time, Peter had been really nice, Liz was really sweet, and while Harry seemed like a fuckboy, he also seemed really great.

Honestly, if I got a couple of new friendships out of what was already a pretty amazing hookup, I was happy. Worse things could come from casual sex.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Liz was already asleep, curled up on her side.

I crawled into bed myself, and passed out pretty quickly.

\---

The next day, Liz texted me after she got home.

_Liz: both cindy and harry’s hookup had to do a walk of shame while I was making breakfast lol_

Then Peter texted me.

_Peter: liz did the walk of shame into the apartment about half an hour ago_

_Peter: she did tell me she’d swipe right on you if I didn’t_

I texted Peter back first.

_Me: she slept on the couch_

_Me: she was way more drunk than you were, I didn’t wanna take advantage of her ;)_

_Peter: what are you up to tonight?_

Was he booty calling me at ten in the morning?

I texted Liz.

_Me: he just asked me what I’m doing tonight_

_Liz: oop_

_Liz: he’s not usually that bold_

_Liz: he must like you_

There was a flutter in my stomach again, stronger this time.

I texted him back.

_Me: are you bootycalling me?_

_Peter: I mean, I was more hoping to get mcdonalds and chat_

_Peter: if that’s good w you_

_Peter: I can bootycall you if you want?_

I laughed into my empty apartment. He definitely fell into the cute subcategory.

And, if we’re being honest, he was good friends with benefits material. Emotionally unavailable but a feminist who knows what he’s doing in bed.

He intrigued me. I liked talking to him, and I liked sleeping with him. Both the ‘friends’ and ‘benefits’ part of that type of agreement were appealing, which is what you want, I guess.

_Me: how about both?_


	3. girl's night

**MJ**

I got to the apartment, carrying a makeup bag and a couple of outfit choices. Liz buzzed me up, and when I got to the apartment, I tried the door and found it was open.

“MJ!” Liz shouted. There was music coming from her room.

Harry was sitting on the couch, and looked at me. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey.”

I walked past to Liz’s room, feeling awkward.

“Okay, okay, I wanna see the outfit options.”

I laughed, opening my bag and pulling out my clothes. There was a pink silk slip, short enough that it’d be dangerous to bend over, then a bralette and mesh top and miniskirt, and then a gold crop top and a white skirt.

“Oh, fuck, MJ.”

I panicked. “Are these too much? Because I can run home-”

“No, no no no no, these are hot. But I’m definitely voting for this pink dress.”

“You had to pick the most dangerous one,” I laughed, putting the other options back in my bag.

She giggled, and then headed to her closet and pulled out a black dress, one of those ruched ones with the sweetheart neckline and the puffy sleeves. “What do you think?”

“Absolutely. That’s hot.”

She smiled, shrugging her shoulders up shyly. “Thank you.”

“Hey!” Betty’s voice called.

“In here!” Liz called back.

The door opened a moment later, and Betty smiled at me. “Hey, MJ!”

“Hey.”

“Okay, so, can I borrow that baby blue dress from last time?” Betty asked, addressing Liz. “I was gonna bring the white one but I still haven’t done laundry.”

Liz nodded, pulling a blue bodycon dress out and tossing it to Betty.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Do you guys want drinks?”

“Definitely,” I said.

“Me too.”

“I’ll be right back.” Liz left the room, and Betty started to change. I looked at the pink dress again, wondering if it was really a good idea.

“Put the dress on and stop overthinking,” Betty said.

“Hey!”

“You’re looking at it the same way you look at your computer when you’re trying to pick submissions.”

I frowned. “You didn’t need to call me out.”

She laughed. “I absolutely did.”

I changed, slipping out of my hoodie and leggings, and pulling the dress on. It was definitely a no bra, minimal thong type of dress, so I felt exposed, but hot.

Liz came back in and handed each of us a red cup. The vodka smell wafted up and made me scrunch my nose for a second before I took a swig of it.

The three of us filtered into Liz’s bathroom, setting makeup out on the counter and dancing to the music. Both of them had tons of makeup set out, and I only had a few products. Just as I started to talk myself into feeling inferior because I had less makeup, Betty leaned over.

“I’m so jealous that you can get away with that little makeup.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “You have great skin, I don’t know what you mean.”

She held out her arm, which was a couple shades darker than her face. “Gotta match the fake tan.”

“Fair.”

I put on my primer, and started to swipe on some concealer, singing along.

It’d been a while since I’d had a girl’s night. I was kind of excited.

“Hey, Liz?” There was a knock on the bathroom door. Liz turned down the music and took a sip of her drink, then opened the door. Peter was standing there, very covered up for the middle of summer. “I’m going out for an hour or two.”

“I thought you were staying in?”

Peter glanced at Betty and I. “Yeah, I just got a call, so I’m gonna…make sure everything’s okay.”

Liz seemed to understand what he meant. “Alright. Text me when you get in.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Have fun, guys.”

“See you!” Betty said.

I smiled. “Have a good night.”

He smiled back at me, and then left.

Betty seemed to know better than to ask Liz about whatever had just happened, so I didn’t ask either, and turned back to the mirror to keep blending my makeup.

I swore I heard the creak of a window opening from outside the room, but Liz was turning up the music, so I couldn’t be sure.

We kept drinking and doing our makeup. I took my time with mine, slowly buffing in blush and highlighter, while the other girls were still working on foundation and concealer.

“Ooh, wait, MJ, what blush do you use?” Liz asked, looking at me through the mirror.

“Uh, it’s just a cheapo one from Target,” I said, holding it up.

She narrowed her eyes at it. “It looks amazing on you.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

I took another sip, and turned back to my reflection.

Was I drinking too much vodka to do some winged eyeliner?

Time to find out.

I used a pencil and drew in my eyeliner, and then just used my pinky to smudge it a little on top.

Betty was blending some brown eyeshadow and looked at me, and then paused.

“Wait, I have a lipstick that’ll look amazing on you.”

“Oh, sure.”

She dug through her makeup and pulled out a dark red, and handed it to me.

“You’re alright with me using it?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks.”

I gulped down the rest of my drink, and then put on the lipstick, careful to keep my lines sharp and even.

\---

We finished getting ready, and walked three or four blocks to the club. Liz knew the owner, so we were on the list and were let right in. It was loud and bright, and the drinks were expensive, but it was _fun_ to get out and party.

Some guy came up to Betty, recognizing her from somewhere. Once Liz and I were sure she knew him and trusted him, we let her go off onto the dance floor with him.

Liz and I stayed off to the side, vibing to the music, drinking, and chatting.

Two other girls came towards us, one a little shorter, with bleach blonde hair, and one about Liz’s height, with light brown hair. The blonde gravitated to Liz, and the brunette to me, smiling.

I wasn’t mad about it.

**Peter**

I got back in from patrolling, and collapsed on the kitchen floor.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, still sitting on the couch.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I hate bank robberies.”

Harry hesitated. “Uh, super relatable.”

I laughed. “I know, I know.” I pulled off the mask. “Can you text Liz and tell her I got in?”

“Yeah.”

Bank robberies were exhausting. I was still catching my breath. But I was glad I’d shut it down and nobody got hurt, including me. Not a single bruise.

A better outcome than most nights of patrolling yielded.

“Need some water?” Harry offered. “Or are you a different kind of thirsty tonight.”

Holding back the urge to sass him, I responded, “Water’s fine.”

He came into the kitchen and got a glass of water for me, and sat down next to me on the floor. I sat up, leaning against the cabinets.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

I drank the whole thing, and he refilled it for me, and I sipped at it.

“Wanna talk about what happened?”

With a sigh, I launched into the story. The masked robbers, one of which was in a cat suit, the scared hostages, the unhelpful cops, the whole thing.

Harry sat and listened to me vent, and then, when I was done, said, “That sounds really tiring. Do you wanna order in some food?”

I shook my head. “It’s expensive and there’s leftovers.”

“It’s on me. Pizza?”

Tempting. “You don’t have to.”

He gave me a look. “Extra large meat lovers?”

Resigned, I nodded. He smiled and stood up to call the pizza place.

I groaned, letting my head fall back against the cabinet. Being Spider-Man could be great, but watching people willingly hurt and threaten people always royally sucked. I wanted to believe in the inherent good of people, I did. It could just be really hard.

“Yep, thank you,” Harry said, hanging up the call. “Half an hour,” he told me.

“Thanks, man.”

“Yeah, of course.”

After another moment or two, I got up and dragged myself to my room to shower and change.

Hot water and clean sweats helped a ton, and I went back out into the living room feeling much better. Harry was sitting on the couch, swiping through Tinder. When he saw me, he waved me over.

“Okay, there’s this girl who’s gorgeous, but she seems more like your type than mine.”

He showed me her profile. Felicia, 23. White hair, green eyes. “Probability is just a five-dollar word for luck. I’m bad luck, baby.”

“She seems more like your type,” I pointed out.

“Okay, maybe more my type, but way more what you need right now.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure.”

He texted me her profile, and I opened Tinder to swipe right on her.

_It’s a match!_

_Me: you look too good to be bad luck_

“You’re not sending that message,” Harry said, grabbing my phone and deleting the message before I could hit send.

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t sound like you. Try again.”

_Me: I’ve been told I’m good luck, so I think together we’d be chaotic neutral?_

Harry sighed, but let me send it.

I didn’t get a response, so I kept swiping. The pizza came a few minutes later, and Harry and I sat on the couch, eating a late-night dinner, watching a movie in the background while we both just scrolled through our phones.

And then I got a Tinder notification.

_Felicia: idk if that’s how pemdas works but sure, I’ll take it lol_

_Felicia: what are you up to?_

I looked at Harry. “I don’t know what a good answer to this is.”

“Just be honest, dude, I dunno.” He took a bite of pizza and watched over my shoulder.

_Me: honestly not a lot, I’m just eating pizza and winding down before I go to bed_

_Felicia: fair enough. I’m a bit of a night owl so I’ll probably be up for a few more hours watching Netflix lol_

_Me: oh I’m for sure a night owl, I’m just exhausted_

_Felicia: rough day?_

_Me: incredibly_

_Felicia: yeah me too lol_

_Me: you doing anything?_

_Felicia: I’m taking a bubble bath and drinking some wine_

_Felicia: it’s a bit of a self-care routine_

Harry nudged me. “She’s not in the bath. It’s a test to make sure you’re not a fuckboy.”

“Are you sure?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow and taking another bite of pizza. I could think of many occasions I’d been sent bathtub photos during my last relationship.

“Absolutely. Don’t ask about it.”

_Me: that sounds like a great self-care routine_

_Me: my roommate had to force me to drink water earlier lol_

_Felicia: okay I’m gonna need to build a self-care routine for you_

_Felicia: like bath bombs, face masks, naps, tea, the whole nine yards_

_Felicia: the idea of 0 self care has triggered my fight or flight response_

_Felicia: do some yoga. I’m begging you._

I laughed.

_Me: do I have to schedule a consultation for this custom-built self-care routine?_

_Felicia: I guess so_

_Felicia: my fee is one (1) iced coffee_

I showed Harry, and he looked impressed.

“That was quick.”

_Me: are you free tomorrow?_

_Felicia: after 3_

_Me: wanna meet for coffee at 3:30?_

_Felicia: it’s a date?_

And then she sent me her number.

“Geez, Peter, you can _pull_. I can’t believe you spent 6 years with Jess instead of actually enjoying yourself.”

“Wow, it’s almost like she convinced me that she was the only person that found me attractive,” I deadpanned, eating the last of my slice.

Harry shook his head. “She was not good for you. I’m glad you’re out of that.”

Standing up, I agreed, “Me too.”

“Off to bed?”

“Off to bed.”

“I’ll stay up for the girls.”

“Alright. Wake me up if you need to.”

“Goodnight.”

“Yeah, goodnight.”

I made my way to bed, slowly, brushing my teeth lazily, and pulling the blankets around me as I crawled into bed, making it as cozy as possible.

Normally, it took a little tossing and turning to get to sleep (mostly because my brain liked to remind me of embarrassing memories right as I started to drift off), but tonight I was out like a light.

Must’ve needed the sleep.

**\---**

When I woke up in the morning, the apartment was absolutely silent.

Normally, Liz was the early bird of the household, and on Sundays especially she’d be up bright and early, making coffee and breakfast. Normally the sound of her in the kitchen was what woke me up.

But it was silent. If I focused, I could hear slow, deep breathing, and heartbeats.

Five heartbeats, to be exact.

That didn’t quite add up. Liz, Harry, and maybe MJ and Betty if they slept over? But that only added up to four, if my half-asleep math could be trusted.

I sat up, stretching, and listened again. Five people breathing, five heartbeats.

I got out of bed and got dressed, went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, and then walked out into the living room.

Nobody was up.

Weird.

I started making some coffee, and the sound of the machine must’ve woken Liz up, because she walked out of her room, hair in the messiest bun I’ve ever seen on her, wearing a robe.

“Mornin’,” she mumbled, wincing.

“Hungover?” I asked softly.

She nodded.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

I poured her the first mug, and then my own coffee. She mumbled a thank you and leaned against the counter.

“How many people are here?” I asked. “I can hear five people, not including me.”

Liz’s eyes went wide. “Oh, um-”

MJ walked out of the room, wearing one of Liz’s hoodies. If I thought Liz’s hair was messy, MJ’s was a rat’s nest on top of her head.

I could still hear two heartbeats coming from Liz’s room.

“Coffee?” I offered MJ.

She nodded. “You know how I take it.”

“Yep.”

I poured her some coffee, and handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

I opened my mouth to ask about who else was here again, but then Liz’s bedroom door opened. I expected to see Betty, but two girls I did not know walked out.

“Um, we’re gonna…head home.”

“Right. I’ll walk you to the elevator,” Liz offered, running over to them and escorting them out of the apartment.

I was so distracted by that, I hadn’t noticed Harry coming out of his room. He came over to the kitchen and poured himself some coffee.

“I’m sorry…what did I miss?”

MJ shrugged and took another sip.

“At least you didn’t have to hear it,” Harry remarked.

“Oh, sorry about that,” MJ offered, but he waved her off.

I blinked. “Okay, hold on, rewind. Did- was there- did you-”

“Give him a second, he’s buffering,” Harry told MJ.

“Was there, like, an- Was there a- What happened?”

MJ laughed. “Uh, Liz and I both brought girls home.”

“Like…as a group?”

She laughed harder, still shaking her head. “No, we didn’t have an orgy, Peter.”

“It seemed like it!” I said in defence, which made her laugh even harder. Even Harry was laughing at me. I sighed. “Alright, well, I’m gonna go down to the diner for breakfast. Do you guys wanna come?”

“I think MJ’s come enough-”

That earned him a smack. MJ composed herself, and smiled at me.

“Let’s go. I could use some waffles.”


	4. hard(y) done by

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for the terrible pun in the title  
> so sorry this took so long! school and work got started back up, and my time was very quickly sucked up. hopefully, the fact that this chapter is a lil longer than usual and a little smutty makes up for it!!  
> as per usual, early access tumblr saw it first. get access [here](https://caramelcaramelcaramel.carrd.co/) :)

**Peter**

I brought the coffees over to the table, and sat Felicia’s down in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said, smiling. She had one of those smiles that pulled eyes. Her whole face lit up, it made her look ten times prettier in half a second.

“No problem,” I said, sitting down across from her. “You did say it was your fee.”

She chuckled, taking a sip.

And we started to talk. She was funny, in a kind of dark way. Every time she smiled, I caught other people in the café staring. Her eyes glimmered whenever she told a joke just as I took a sip, causing me to cough.

We sat there, talking, until the café closed at 6.

“Do you wanna come back to my apartment?” Felicia asked, nonchalant but somehow bold at the same time.

“Uh, sure.”

She grinned and took my hand, leading me out of the café, and up the block.

We got into her building and into the elevator, and the second the elevator doors closed, she was kissing me.

It was so sudden, I almost stumbled back. Instead, I grabbed her by the waist, and kissed her back.

The doors opened, and she pulled away, smiling, and led me down the hall to her apartment. She unlocked the door, and pulled me into the apartment, pushing me up against the nearest wall and kissing me again.

_Hot. Okay._

I grabbed her by the hips and lifted it, turning us around to push her up against the wall. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and she moaned into my mouth.

 _Really hot_.

\---

I took a taxi home afterwards, and walked into the apartment looking…ruffled, to say the least.

When I got in, it smelled overwhelmingly of cookies. MJ and Liz were in the kitchen, both wearing green face masks, talking. They both looked over at me, and chuckled.

“Okay, fuck off,” I grumbled.

“Hey, I’m glad you had fun,” Liz said.

MJ snorted. “Because you certainly missed out last night.”

The two of them laughed.

“Yeah, you guys can laugh it up. I got coffee, a twelve-step skincare routine, and…a lot of bruises.”

MJ mock-pouted. “Aw, do you need someone to kiss it better?”

I glared at her, and she laughed harder.

“Where’s Harry?” I asked.

“Off with some girl,” Liz answered with a shrug. “Tinder match, I think. He said not to wait up.” The oven dinged, and she put on oven mitts and pulled a cookie sheet out of the oven.

“Ooh, you guys made cookies?” Gotta pretend I don’t have super-senses, you know?

“Double chocolate,” MJ said. “My parents’ recipe.”

I stepped closer. “Um, do I get dibs based on buying breakfast this morning?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. They’re hot, though, don’t burn yourself.”

Disregarding that, I grabbed a couple of cookies, fumbling when they started to fold and crumble, as hot cookies do. The girls laughed at me again, and I glared as I grabbed a plate to drop my broken cookies onto.

“Shut up. Is there milk?”

“Yep, Harry did a grocery run earlier.”

I poured myself a glass of milk, and dipped my cookie.

They were _heavenly_.

“MJ, you come from a line of miracle workers.”

She laughed. “That’s a lovely sentiment, Peter, but I don’t.”

I gave her a puzzled look. “You’ve had these cookies and don’t believe your parents are miracle workers?”

MJ swallowed. Liz and I both watched her as she straightened up. “Um, they’re lovely, but they’re not my birth parents.”

Dead silence.

“Cool, so, um, I’m gonna wash this off,” MJ said, leaving the kitchen.

I looked at Liz. “Did you know?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know her very well, Peter, she’s your booty call.”

“She’s not my booty call.”

“No, I know she’s a friend, but come on, dude. We barely know her.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I guess.” I grabbed another cookie and went to Liz’s bathroom, knocking on the slightly ajar door.

“Come in.”

Pushing the door open gently, I asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. It’s just…awkward, I guess. Like everyone always gets weird about it, and it’s…it _is_ weird, maybe, but I’m so used to it that it’s not something I really think about it. And it’s always a story I have to tell, right? ‘Hey, guys, my birth parents gave me up when I was born, I spent most of my childhood in the foster system, got adopted at fifteen, and still don’t know who my birth parents are.’ Like it’s just…a lot. I don’t know.” She kept working at her face with a towel, slowly scrubbing green clay off.

I leaned against the counter. “Yeah, I get it.”

She looked at me, eyebrow raised.

“My parents died in a plane crash when I was a kid. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, and then my uncle died when I was in high school. Sometimes I just say Aunt May is my mom because it’s easier.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t know my parents. I mean, losing my uncle was hard, but…you know. It’s been years.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t feel any better.”

“No, no it does not.”

She wiped off the last of the mask, and took a cookie. “Thanks, Peter.” She smiled. I returned it.

“Anytime.”

She took a bite and turned around, leaning on the counter to mirror my position. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“How do you deal with not knowing them?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I know they were good people. I hear stories all the time about all the ways I’m like them. But I barely remember them. And growing up with my aunt and uncle was really good. They were amazing. So…I don’t know if I think too much about it.”

She leaned into me. “That’s good.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“I wonder a lot about mine.”

“Yeah?”

I could feel her take a deep breath. “I don’t know a lot about them. I know their last name is Jones. I know they were young. That’s it. I don’t know if they were safe, or healthy, or married, or having an affair. I don’t know if they’re still alive, or together, or in the States. They could be absolutely anybody and I have no way of knowing what parts of me are from them, and what parts I’ve learned.”

Wrapping an arm around her and squeezing her shoulders, I said, “That can’t be fun.”

She snorted. “Nope.”

“I’m sorry, Em.”

“It’s alright. I’ve learned to live with it. And my adoptive parents are…great. I got really lucky.”

I squeezed again.

We stood there for a couple minutes, my arm around her, eating cookies and staring at the wall.

“Um,” she said, clearing her throat, “how was your date? And I mean the date, not the sex.”

I laughed. “It was good. She was nice. I think we’re going out again.”

“Does that mean that if I wanna fuck you again, I should get on that now?”

I opened my mouth to protest, but realized…probably. “Well…I guess.”

MJ grabbed the plate and left the bathroom. I followed her out to the kitchen. Liz was sitting on the couch, cross legged, eating cookies and scrolling through her phone.

“Hey, MJ, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Um, noise cancelling headphones might be a good idea, though.”

“Em!” I protested.

She giggled, setting the plate down on the counter before grabbing my hand and pulling me into my room.

“Two girls in one day?” Liz asked. “Really? Are you trying to outdo Harry?”

“Nope.” MJ grinned. “I am.”

She closed the door behind us.

“You sure?” I asked.

Her hands were already at the hem of my shirt. “Why wouldn’t I be? Are you?”

“Yeah. I-I don’t know, you were just sad.”

She kissed me, and then lifted the shirt off of me. “You’re sweet. I’m fine. Get on the bed.”

I chuckled and sat down, and she straddled me, arms sliding over my shoulders as she leaned in.

“You sure?” I asked again, just for safe measure.

“I asked you, Peter.”

Before I could respond, her lips were pressed to mine.

MJ was so easy to melt into. The second she kissed me, I was lost in it.

Good chemistry went a lot further than anyone gives credit for.

**MJ**

I don’t know why I suddenly felt so possessive over Peter. We weren’t dating. I didn’t even want to date anybody. But the mention of Felicia had…I don’t know, made me angry?

Whatever it was, I kinda liked it. Because being in his lap, kissing him, while his hands started to pull my shirt up, it was _nice_ to say the least.

I don’t know what it was specifically about him, but the way his hands felt on my skin always felt safe and easy and kind. They moved up my waist, shifted to my back, pushing my shirt up as he went. His fingertips grazed along my spine and made me shiver. I broke the kiss and he pulled my shirt off, tossing it aside, hands sliding over my skin again before his lips met mine again.

His hands went to my hips, pushing at the waistband of my sweatpants. I sat up a little, giving him room to push them down. He immediately used the space to push a hand down the front of my pants, and rubbed with his fingers over my panties. I moaned against his lips.

“Be quiet for me, Em.” His lips brushed over mine as he spoke. I found myself nodding. “Good girl.”

He pressed harder, rubbing in circles. I bit my lip to stop myself from making a noise, and rocked my hips against his hand.

“Good girl,” Peter said again, brushing hair away from my face and kissing my cheek. “God, you’re soaked.”

He kept up his movements for a few more moments, and then pulled his hand away. Before I could protest, he flipped me into my back and pulled my pants and underwear off.

“Quiet,” he reminded me, dropping my clothes on the floor.

He laid down between my legs, licking slowly at my clit. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting harder on my lip, trying not to make a sound. His fingers pushed into me, immediately curling into my g-spot and pressing hard. My hands grabbed onto the comforter, making tight fists. He sucked at my clit, lightly for a moment, then hard. Despite my efforts, I let out a soft groan. It was almost silent, so I didn’t think he’d notice, but then he stopped and looked at me.

“What did I tell you?”

“To be quiet. I didn’t think you could hear that.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, but didn’t say anything, and dipped back down.

 _Weird_.

He was too distracting for me to focus too much on that.

He sped up his movements, to the point where I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle myself, just in case. He sucked harder, pressed harder with his fingers, moved faster, all until my legs were shaking and my back began to arch off the bed.

And he pulled away.

“Peter-”

“Nope, you don’t get to cum yet. I told you to be quiet, so Liz wouldn’t have to hear, and I could hear you.”

“You clearly gave insanely good h-”

His hand covered my mouth, cutting me off. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

I stared up at him.

“Yes or no, Em?”

I definitely would’ve challenged him about it, but Liz was outside the bedroom, and I didn’t wanna do anything that would end in screaming.

So I nodded.

“Good.”

He pulled his pants and boxers off, and dug through his nightstand drawers to grab a condom. He tore it open and rolled it on, and then turned back to me.

“Hands and knees.”

I hesitated, and when he opened his mouth to repeat himself, I turned over. He got behind me, hands on my hips, and lined up.

“Quiet.”

I nodded.

He pushed in, slowly, and I let my eyes roll back in my head. _Fuck_ , he felt good. I bunched the blankets in my hands and bit my lip.

“God, Em, you feel so good.”

I stifled a whine as he started to slowly pump in and out. I was slick but tight, and it was just the right amount of friction, combined with a ribbed condom.

“Can you take it all?” he asked, pushing in halfway.

“Please,” I breathed.

He thrusted, holding my hips still as he slammed into me. I barely held back a yelp. He slowly pulled out, and then slammed in again. My elbows buckled, and I fell to my forearms. By some miracle, I didn’t make a noise.

He sped up, hands gripping me tighter, fingers digging into my hip bones. Despite my efforts, I let out a strangled whine.

“I told you to be quiet.”

Before I could apologize, he grabbed me by the neck and pulled me upright, thrusting harder. His other hand snaked down my stomach and between my legs, fingers circling my clit.

“Don’t cum,” he breathed into my ear. “Take it.”

His hand squeezed the sides of my throat, making me light-headed. I grabbed his wrist, not to pull his hand away, just to make sure that I could if I got close to passing out. My other hand reached behind me, to grab his hair in my fist. He thrusted harder, and I pulled.

He chuckled.

I could feel the orgasm building, and let my head fall back on his shoulder. “Please.”

“No.” He sped up, squeezed harder, punishing me.

“Peter,” I breathed. “I’m begging you.”

“Yeah? You wanna beg to cum?”

I nodded, barely, digging my nails into his wrist.

“You’re just a desperate little slut, aren’t you?”

Nodded again. Fuck, I was close.

“Hold on for me, just a minute longer.”

He sped up again, thrusting hard and fast, driving his cock into my g-spot with every thrust. His fingers were pressing harder as they circled my clit.

“You feel so good, Em. Cum on my cock for me.”

I gasped as I came, back arching, nails digging into his wrist, fist pulling at his hair. I tried to stay quiet, but each thrust was harder than the last, and I squeaked out gasps and moans and whines as I came.

After a moment, Peter mumbled an, “Oh, god,” and kissed my neck as his movements lost some rhythm. He started to slow, letting me come down from the high.

I finally relaxed against him, and he pulled out of me, loosening his grip on my neck, and pulling his hand away from my clit.

“How was that?” he asked, panting as he got off the bed, pulling the condom off.

I rested face-down on the bed, and held up a thumbs-up. He laughed.

“Alright, kinks noted.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled.

I really hated Felicia for taking _that_ away from me.

\---

Over the course of the next two weeks, Peter and Felicia went out five more times, Peter always walking back into the apartment looking like he’d been in a car crash. Almost every time the two of them went out, Liz and Harry and I went to the bar, or Liz and I stayed in for spa nights.

On Peter’s birthday, Liz and Harry set up a surprise party, and invited me over. I got there early, helping Harry hang a banner across the kitchen. Liz was struggling with the icing, so I ended up taking over.

“Holy shit, MJ, when did you get good at cake decorating?”

“I worked in a grocery store bakery through college,” I told her, smoothing icing with the side of a large knife. “Next time you need a cake decorated, I’m your gal.”

“I knew we kept you around for a good reason,” Harry said, tying balloons to the coffee table.

My phone vibrated on the counter, and Peter’s name popped up.

“Liz, can you grab that?”

“Sure.” She picked up my phone. “Hey, what’s up?”

I heard his voice, garbled, from where I was standing. “I, uh, was gonna ask MJ if she was with you guys, but I guess she is.”

“Yeah, we’ve just been baking. What’s up?”

“Uh, I know we agreed to a movie night tonight, and I was wondering if I can bring Felicia over?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you guys were serious.”

“We’re-we’re not…I don’t know. I just kind of figure it’s better you meet her on purpose than…”

“Than when she does the walk of shame out of your bedroom at ten on a Sunday?”

“…Yes.”

“Bring her over, Peter. Oh, um, but not until eight.”

“Why not?”

Liz panicked. Harry rushed in and grabbed the phone. “Because Liz and MJ have girls over again. You don’t wanna be here, trust me. See you at eight.” He hung up.

“Dude!” Liz smacked his arm as he handed my phone back to me.

“It’ll work!”

“Still!”

The intercom buzzed. “Oh, shit, that’ll be Ned,” Harry muttered, running over to the intercom and buzzing him in.

“Who’s Ned?”

“One of Peter’s best friends.”

I nodded. “Makes sense.”

Liz’s phone buzzed, and she picked it up. “Harry, can you buzz Betty in, too?”

“Sure.”

I put the final touches on the cake, and then held my hand out. “Candles.”

“Candles,” Liz said, handing me the candles we’d bought earlier.

I ripped them out of the packaging, and stuck them into the cake, making sure they were centered above the “happy birthday” message written in blue icing. They were the numbered kind, both red.

“This is it,” I said dramatically. “My masterpiece. My magnus opum.”

“Magnum opus,” Liz corrected.

“My magnum opus. My peak. Everything I do after this is inferior. I may as well die now, quit while I’m ahead.”

“Alright, drama queen,” Liz laughed.

“And I thought Peter was the most dramatic it could get,” Harry remarked, as he opened the door for Ned and Betty. “Hey, guys. Pizza’s on the table.”

“Thanks,” Betty said brightly, stepping inside. Ned’s eyes seemed to follow her. “MJ! You’re here!”

“Yes, yes I am.”

She congregated with Liz and I, whereas Ned and Harry finished tying balloons and chatted in the living room.

“So, um, Liz,” Betty said, “What’s Ned’s deal?”

“Dork extraordinaire Ned Leeds? He’s not your usual type.”

Betty shrugged. “He was nice on the way up. Besides, my usual type hasn’t worked out for me thus far.”

“Fair. Drinks?”

“Always.”

“MJ?”

I nodded. “Sure.”

Liz got out glasses and started pouring wine. Betty struck up a conversation with me.

“So, uh, how are you feeling about the whole Felicia thing?”

I shot a confused look Liz’s way.

“I texted her about it after Peter called us,” she explained.

“Yeah, I still- did I miss something?”

Betty frowned. “Weren’t you and Peter, like, seeing each other?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Just a casual thing.”

“Oh, okay. My bad.”

Liz handed us our glasses. “Yep, don’t worry, I can confirm. They do not fuck like people who care about each other.”

“Liz!”

She snorted. “Neither do Peter and Felicia, for that matter. That boy comes home with enough bruises to open a case.”

Betty smacked her. “I do not need to know all of this about Peter.”

“Neither do I, Bets, but here we are.” She took a sip.

“Okay, okay, in my defence,” I said, “we try to be quiet.”

“You _try_. That reminds me, I need to have a word with Peter about our security deposit and putting a pillow behind his headboard.”

Betty shook her head and downed her whole glass of wine. “Refill, please. I don’t want to remember this.” She handed Liz her glass.

“It’s seven thirty,” I reminded her.

“Even better, I’ll sober up by midnight.”

I laughed, and followed suit, drinking my full glass and Liz pouring another drink for me.

A few more people came up to the apartment. Flash Thompson, who immediately hit on me (mostly by telling me his full name and acting like I was supposed to know it or be impressed by it), Jean, who Liz and Harry seemed familiar with, Sally, who actually seemed attracted to Flash (which shocked both Betty and Liz), and Leo, who also seemed to know Harry and Liz pretty well. Liz made sure I was introduced to everyone.

“Alright, guys, the doorman texted and said Peter just walked in,” Harry announced, voice booming impressively through the apartment. “Hide!”

Liz, Jean, Betty, and I, all ended up behind the island counter in the kitchen, huddled together to make sure we weren’t visible from the front door.

“Hey,” Betty whispered to me, “after we surprise him, can you be my wingwoman with Ned?”

“I got you.” I held my glass up, and she gently clinked hers against mine.

There was some giggling and talking from out in the hall, and then jingling sound of keys in the lock, and then the door opened.

We all jumped up. “SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Felicia and Peter both jumped.

I realized exactly what Peter liked about her. Well, two things, located just below her collarbones. The white hair, tiny nose, big eyes, and thick hips and thighs probably helped, but I took Peter for a tits guy.

“Thank you, guys!” Peter stepped into the apartment, and Felicia stepped in after him.

The mingling began. I stayed in the kitchen at first, as Peter made the rounds, thanking people for coming and introducing Felicia. Betty stayed with me, leaning against the counter and eating a slice of pizza. Her gaze was fixed on Ned, as he did some weird secret handshake with Peter and laughed.

“What about Ned do you like so much?” I asked. “Not judging, he’s cute, but he doesn’t seem like your type of guy.”

Betty sighed. “When we were in the elevator, he was just…really kind. Fun to talk to, really nice to me…I don’t know.”

“Is that all it takes at this point? Someone asks you about your day and you immediately wanna get in their pants?” I teased.

She laughed. “I guess. Says a lot, huh?”

“Definitely.”

Liz and Harry were shaking hands with Felicia in the living room, seemingly charmed by her half-smile and sweet drawl. I was annoyed, even from here.

Peter caught my eye, and pulled Felicia towards the kitchen.

“Hey, guys! Betty, MJ, this is Felicia. Felicia, this is MJ and Betty.”

Felicia held out a hand to shake, smiling wide. Her teeth were impossibly white.

“Hey. Nice to meet you,” I said.

“How do you and Peter know each other?”

Peter’s eyes widened in panic. I lied through my teeth. “Uh, Betty and Liz are friends, Betty and I work together, I kinda just became friends with Liz because of that and then…friends with Peter.”

She hesitated, eyebrows twitching in an almost-frown, and then nodded. “Right. And Betty?”

Betty explained how she became friends with Liz as Peter mouthed a “thank you” to me.

So maybe it was serious. Why else would he hide the fact that we were fuckbuddies?

Felicia excused herself to Peter’s bathroom, and Peter stayed behind in the kitchen.

“So?”

I raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Do you like her?”

Betty nodded. “She’s nice. And pretty.”

Peter looked at me, expectantly.

Gut instinct said no, but I lied through my teeth, again. “She seems really sweet.”

Something unreadable flashed across Peter’s face before he smiled, relieved. “Good.”

Before I could come up with an excuse to drag Betty towards Ned, Harry and Liz came over.

“Hey, champ,” Harry teased, punching his shoulder. “I’m impressed.”

“He’s impressed by the support her bra has,” Liz clarified. “Seriously, does she not have back problems?”

“Oh, for sure,” Betty said. “I’m half that size and I can’t wear anything wireless.”

Harry pitched up again. “How many squats do you think she does to keep up that ass?”

“My bet is on two hundred a day.” Betty sipped at her wine.

“More,” Liz challenged.

Peter was blushing.

I excused myself to grab some pizza. Betty followed me over a moment later, and the two of us worked our way over to where Ned was sitting in the living room, rolling his eyes at Flash.

“I knew you’d come back to me,” Flash said with a wink.

I scoffed. “Nope. Actually, I haven’t really had a chance to introduce myself.” I looked at Ned. “I’m MJ.”

He held out a hand, and I shook it. “Ned.”

I smiled. “And this is Betty. She and I worked at the Bugle.”

“We met in the elevator,” Ned told me, eyes locked on Betty.

She smiled at him. “Uh-huh. So, um, did you get a drink?”

He shook his head. Flash opened his mouth to say something, already reaching for a cup on the table, but I shot him a glare. He leaned back in the seat.

“Come on,” Betty offered, “let’s get you hydrated.”

Ned got up, and followed her to the kitchen.

I took Ned’s spot on the couch.

“So, what’s your deal?” Flash asked.

I glared. “Nothing has traumatized me enough to go home with you, Eugene.”

He blinked. “Who’s Eugene?”

I grinned. “If you google Flash Thompson, it shows your real name.”

He reached for his phone faster than I’d ever seen anyone reach for their phone.

\---

At the end of the night, after everyone had gone home, I helped Liz and Harry and Peter clean up the apartment. Once the dishes were clean and the garbage bags were full, Peter turned to me.

“Hey, I’ll walk you home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, come on. Are you gonna be warm enough?” When I hesitated, he smiled and went into his room, coming out with a grey sweatshirt and handing it to me. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

I said goodnight to Liz and Harry, and then he and I headed out.

We were both quiet until we got into the elevator.

“Twenty-five,” I said. “So I’m, what, two months older?”

“When’s your birthday?”

“June 10th. Two months to the day.”

“June 10th. Noted.”

I smiled, pulling the sleeves of the sweatshirt down over my hands, only for them to slide back up. Damn my long arms.

“She’s fun,” he said. “I don’t know.”

“She didn’t stay over.”

“Yeah.”

“Would you have brought her over if you’d known about the party?”

He hesitated, and then shook his head. “No. It made it more serious than it had to be, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know. I like her. I’m not gonna…I don’t know.” The doors dinged and opened, and we stepped out into the lobby. “Um, thanks for helping out with everything.”

“Of course. You only hit the halfway point in your twenties once,” I teased.

He laughed. “Don’t make me feel older than I already do.”

“Ah, yes, the quarter-life crisis. Let me know when you’re ready to buy a sports car and a yacht.”

Peter snorted. “I’m not nearly rich enough for that.”

We stepped out of the building, and the cool air hit me. It was still summer, but it was that August night air, that reminded you how short summer was. I was thankful for the sweater as the breeze fluffed up my hair.

“Are you warm enough?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He nudged me with his elbow, grinning. “Of course, Em.”

My stomach did a little flip again, and I realized exactly what it was.

 _Oh, no_.

“I’m sorry about Flash, by the way,” Peter said. “I saw him harassing you.”

“It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not. I talked to him about it before he left, but he’s probably a lost cause. He was a huge dick in high school, so I don’t know why I’m surprised that he hasn’t changed.”

“Why was he at the party?” I asked.

“He and Harry are…kinda close. It seems to be sort of an on-again, off-again friendship. I think their parents are friends? It’s confusing.”

“Right. Rich kids.”

“Yep. Except Harry’s kind of a recovering asshole.”

“Did he attend a 12-step program?” I joked.

“Assholes Anonymous,” he laughed. “It was…mostly I think that he realized May-”

“Your aunt.”

“Yes, my aunt. May didn’t like him, and Harry, for some reason, didn’t like not being liked by May, and then it kind of encouraged him to…be less of a dick. Still a fuckboy, but baby steps, I guess.”

“Does she like him now?”

He shrugged. “She likes his reliability. He pays rent a month ahead, he’s always there if I’m going through something, that type of thing.”

“A good quality in a friend.”

He nodded, and then frowned. “I don’t know any of your friends outside of Liz and Betty and Harry.”

I swallowed. “Right, um, I don’t really…have a ton of friends. I mean, I have one, Miles, and I’ve known him for forever because we used to go to school together, and we have a weekly lunch or coffee thing, but we’ve never been…super close? Like it’s a complain about relationships, talk shit about coworkers, that type of friendship, I guess.”

“That’s a close friendship,” Peter said.

“I’d argue that you and I are closer. Or Liz and I.”

“How so?”

“Well, you’ve both seen my tits.”

Peter coughed, and then laughed.

“I’m not wrong!”

“I don’t think that’s a mark of close friendship!”

I laughed. “Have you not seen Harry’s dick?”

“No! Nor do I want to!”

“What? Do guys not to that?”

“No! No guy wants to see other dicks!”

“Then why do guys send out dick pics so liberally?”

Peter laughed again, shrugging. “I don’t know. I don’t get it.”

He ran his hand through his hair as he tried to compose himself. I knew he was hot, but god, he was pretty.

_No, no no no. No butterflies. Kill the butterflies. Digest them._

We were coming up to my building, so Peter sort of cleared his throat. “Um, are you gonna be around at all this weekend?”

I nodded. “Probably. I seem to spend more time over there than at home.”

He chuckled. “If we had an extra room, I’d invite you to move in.”

I almost made a joke about staying with him, and swallowed it. “Well, um, I should get upstairs. I’ve got work to get done tomorrow.” We stopped in front of the doors.

“Right. Of course.” He pulled me into a hug. “Thanks again, Em.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“No problem, Peter. Happy birthday.”

He squeezed a little tighter before he let go. “Sleep well.”

“Yeah, you too. Goodnight.”

He smiled, a little lopsided. “Goodnight.”

He waited until I got into the building, past the second set of doors, and then waved before turning to walk back home.

I went upstairs, got ready for bed, and went to fold up the sweater, but hesitated.

It was soft. And it smelled like him.

I pulled it back on, and crawled into bed, curling around my spare pillow.

God, my feelings had such shitty timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's hoping chapter 5 gets done faster :')


	5. catty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, excuse the pun in the title :')  
> also there's a commission giveaway on my ko-fi if you're into that, links at the end of the chapter!

**MJ**

I left work early on Tuesday for a doctor’s appointment, which took me way less time than expected. Rather than go back to work, I went to the café on my block, and sat down with an iced coffee and a book.

I had barely gotten through the first chapter before a familiar head of white hair walked into the café. I glanced up and saw Felicia heading straight for the cash register.

Peter did live up the street. It made sense that Felicia was here.

Her presence did annoy me, though.

I went back to my book, getting through a few more pages before I heard my name.

“Michelle!” Felicia gave me a big smile as she headed over, holding two cups. “Funny seeing you here.”

“I live two buildings over.”

She shrugged. “I took you more for a bar person than a coffee shop person.”

I blinked. “Um, I don’t…what?”

“Listen,” she continued, waving me off, “I know that you’re into Peter. I get it. He’s great. Washboard abs, sharp jawline, soft hair-”

“He and I are friends,” I interrupted.

“Right. But you like him.”

“Mhm. Because he’s my friend.”

Felicia did that little snooty half-laugh, half-condescending hum, and smiled again. “Honey, we both know you wanna fuck him.”

I knew I shouldn’t, but she was getting on my nerves too much. “I did fuck him, Felicia. A few times.”

She snorted. “And he still picked me.”

I sat back in my chair and sipped my coffee. “He didn’t pick you. From what he’s told me, he doesn’t wanna be serious with you.” I hated when I got jealous, hated the side of me it brought out, but it felt good to watch her face fall just the slightest amount.

“That’s not what he told me.”

“Mhm?”

“Yeah.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Anyways, I’ll let you go back to whatever book you’re pretending to read. I just wanted to tell you that I know how you feel, and you don’t threaten me.”

I smiled as sweetly as I could. “Thanks for the heads up. Bye.”

She didn’t even say goodbye before turning dramatically, hair fanning out as she turned on her heel, and leaving.

 _Ugh_.

Well, at least now I knew she was a bitch, and I didn’t just dislike her because I was maybe sorta kinda into Peter on a little more than a physical level.

**Peter**

Felicia walked in with coffee, looking…irked.

“What’s wrong?”

She looked up, eyes wide, and then smiled. “Nothing. Here’s the coffee.”

I blinked. “Um, thank…thank you. Are you sure you’re alright?”

She shrugged. “Just ran into someone I’m not a big fan of earlier, it’s nothing. Wanna watch a movie?”

“I- yeah, sure.”

Felicia and I set up in my room with my laptop, our coffees, and a bag of microwave popcorn. I had fully expected Felicia to initiate something, but instead she cuddled into my side as the movie started, head on my shoulder.

It was weird. She wasn’t normally like this, but I certainly wasn’t mad about it.

We made it through the movie without so much as a kiss, let alone sex.

I wasn’t about to pressure her into anything, but I figured…it was Felicia. I thought we’d get no more than ten minutes in before she climbed on top of me and kissed me, and the movie would be forgotten. That was how it usually went.

This felt closer to a romantic thing, and while I liked the comfort of it, I didn’t know if I liked that it was Felicia.

A tiny part of my brain wanted it to be Jess. No, not wanted. Just _expected_ to see her when I looked at the space Felicia occupied.

I tried not to pay attention to that part of my brain. It wasn’t missing her, it wasn’t not being over her. It’s just that for the last six years, when I’ve looked at the girl curled up next to me while watching a movie, it’s been Jess. That’s all it was. Habit.

And, besides, when the movie was over, Felicia pulled me into the shower with her.

That was more like her.

\---

A few days later, she invited me over after work. I got there, expecting drinks, but there was dinner on the table.

“I cooked,” she said with a smile.

“You…sure did.”

She shrugged, pulling me into the apartment and closing the door behind me. “I figured it might be nice to have a warm meal on the table for you after a long day.” She kissed my cheek, and led me over to the table.

I tried not to let my confusion show.

We ate dinner, and talked about our days, and then did the dishes together.

It was all very…domestic.

We laid on the couch and watched some Netflix, and made out for a few minutes, and then I left.

No sex.

Who was she and what had she done with Felicia?

\---

The next day, when Harry got home, I stopped him before he could take off his leather jacket.

“We’re going to the bar.”

“Oh, um, I think Liz and MJ are busy tonight-”

“Just us.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at me.

“I just…need some advice. And a drink.”

“Alright,” he said, “lets go.”

We made it to the bar, ordered our drinks, and sat down.

“What’s up?” Harry asked.

I held up my finger and downed about half of my drink.

“Oh, geez,” he muttered.

“Okay, so, Felicia.”

He sighed. “Did you catch feelings?”

“No! Actually, um, I think…it might be the other way around?”

His eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

“So, the first few times we hung out, it was almost entirely sexual. Like, ninety percent.”

“Nerd.”

I ignored him. “And then it just…waned, I guess. I think the last time we had sex was last week when she came over for a movie, and even then, it was weird. Before that I hadn’t been able to watch a movie or show with her because we’d get ten minutes in and it’d…escalate.”

“Mhm.”

“But we didn’t have sex until after the movie, and it wasn’t nearly as intense. And we haven’t had sex since. She invited me over yesterday and told me it was so I could relax after work, so I thought it was a booty call, but she cooked me dinner and we cuddled and watched TV and kissed a couple times and that was that.”

Harry blinked. “So you’re in a relationship.”

“But I don’t wanna be. The first time we hung out and had coffee, I told her I wasn’t looking for anything serious, but it feels serious and I…I don’t think I like it.”

He sighed and took a sip of his drink. “Ghost her.”

“No!”

“That’s what I’d do.”

“I don’t wanna ghost her. It’s mean.”

“Alright. Then talk to her.”

“But is it even a thing or is she just…on her period, maybe?”

“You could ask her. Or initiate and see what happens?”

I sighed. “I guess, yeah. Maybe.” I took a sip.

Harry checked his phone. “Want me to invite Liz and MJ? They just got out of the movie.”

“Sure.”

\---

I tried to put the whole thing out of my head, but even after a fun night with Harry and Liz and MJ, I was stressed about it.

I texted her.

_Me: are you still up?_

_Felicia: are you bootycalling me?_

_Me: if that’s alright_

_Felicia: I’ll be right over_

The weight seemed to lift off my shoulders. It wasn’t serious, it was still casual.

And then she brought a duffle bag over.

I purposefully ignored it, because yeah, it was a late night rendezvous, and she probably didn’t wanna do a whole walk of shame in the morning.

We had sex, as rough as ever, and then she…unpacked. Set up her toothbrush and toothpaste and hair brush in the bathroom, put some clothes in the closet, and then crawled back into bed with me.

“Goodnight, babe,” she whispered, kissing me on the cheek and nuzzling in.

I stared at the ceiling. “Goodnight.”

\---

Sleep escaped me.

The second morning light streamed through the blinds, I eased my way out of the bed and went to the kitchen, eating some breakfast by the window, then doing my dishes, then deciding it was time for some caffeine.

Liz came out of her room as I was making some coffee.

“Morning,” she yawned. “How’d you sleep?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t. Did MJ go home?”

“Nah, she’s still asleep.”

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

I poured her a mug, and then my own.

“Felicia stayed over?”

“Oh, more than that. She unpacked a bag in my room.”

Liz frowned. “Did I miss something? Are you two together?”

I shook my head, mixing in milk and sugar. “I booty called her and she brought a duffle.”

She sucked air in through her teeth. “Yikes.”

“I’ll talk to her when she’s up.”

“Good idea.”

Liz’s door opened and MJ walked out, pulling her hair out of a bun and fluffing it. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Liz responded.

“Coffee?”

She nodded, so I pulled out a mug and poured her coffee, mixing in milk and sugar before handing it to her.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“How was your night?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “It sounded like fun. Liz and I were jealous.”

Liz nodded. “Almost got us going.”

I rolled my eyes. “You two are awful together.”

They laughed, and I heard Felicia stir in the bedroom. Heartrate and breath picked up, and there was the soft rustle of sheets and blankets moving.

I pulled out another mug, and poured Felicia some coffee. “I’m gonna give her some coffee.”

“I always knew you’d be a morning sex person,” MJ teased. Liz giggled.

“I should never have let you two meet.”

They laughed harder, and I smiled before going back into my room.

I was right. Felicia was sitting up in bed, scrolling through her phone.

“Morning. I brought you some coffee.”

She smiled wide. “Aww! Thank you!”

I sat down on the edge of the bed as I handed her the mug, and we drank our coffees in silence for a moment before I spoke.

“What are we?”

It was a dumb way to put it, but it was the best I could do.

She shrugged. “What do you want us to be?” She took a sip, staring at me with big eyes.

**MJ**

Liz and I were sitting on the couch, debating whether or not to order in breakfast or actually go out for brunch. When there was a lull in the conversation, I piped up.

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Is it just me, or does Peter seem…weird?”

Liz looked at me. “Are you just now realizing that he’s a giant nerd, or…?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s like…I don’t know, like he can…”

I saw the thinly-veiled panic on Liz’s face, and realized she was hiding something.

“Spill.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I promised!”

“Okay, but you know I know.”

“No, I don’t!”

I narrowed my eyes at her, and then his door, and lowered my voice. “He’s got, like, super hearing, for sure. I know that.”

Liz was frozen. “Why do you think that?”

“He knew right when Felicia woke up. You saw that, too, right? His ears perked up, he made her coffee and went back into his room? I didn’t hear anything, but he sure did.”

“I think he just knows her well-”

The door opened, and Felicia walked out, carrying a duffle bag, scowling directly at me.

“I hope you’re happy, Michelle.”

The front door slammed shut behind her.

Liz frowned. “What was that about?”

“Um-”

Peter came out of his bedroom, wiping his face with his shirt, and it came away coffee stained. “That went well.”

I kept a poker face, but a small, terrible part of me was glad they’d clearly ended things.


	6. skeleton-free closet

**MJ**

“Please, please, please,” I moaned.

Peter pushed two fingers into my mouth, muffling me, and thrusted harder. “Not yet, Em.”

His fingers were starting to curl into my throat, and it took all of my willpower not to choke or gag.

All I wanted was to let my body go limp, but my hands were cuffed to my headboard, and he was lifting me by the hips as he thrusted, and it took all of my core strength to not slump painfully, or finish before he allowed.

“You like my fingers down my throat?” he asked, sounding cocky. Even though I knew it was his thinly veiled way of asking me if I was okay, it was still hot. I nodded. “That’s my girl. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

I was scared I’d bite his fingers if I came, but he thrusted harder, fingers pushing down my throat further, and I couldn’t help it. My moans and cries were muffled, my back arched, and I squeezed impossibly tight around him.

“Fuck, _yes_ , just like that, Em.” He groaned, hips jerking arrhythmically. “Oh, god.”

Within a few moments, we were quiet, panting, bodies stilling and pulling away from each other. He uncuffed me and kissed my temple, before heading to my bathroom.

I caught my breath and sat up, reaching for my clothes, tossed somewhere on the floor.

“So, um, I take it we won’t be seeing much more of Felicia?” I asked, my voice sounding gravelly. Peter came out of the bathroom, pulling on boxers, and gave me a questioning look. “She didn’t seem pleased when she left yesterday.”

“Oh, right. Yeah. I don’t…yeah, I don’t think she’s too fond of me anymore.”

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “She wanted something more serious, I guess. I don’t know.”

I pulled my shirt on. “I thought you’d told her you weren’t interested in a relationship when you met.”

“Yeah, I did. She said she wasn’t, either.”

I felt a guilty pang in my chest, and our coffee shop interaction played in my head. I shook it off. “I didn’t like her much. You can do better.”

“Yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Oh, fuck off.” I pulled my pants on, tying the drawstring. “She was bitchy. You just liked her for the tits.”

He frowned. “Do you actually think that?”

I tossed him his shirt. “Dude, that was the only reason _I_ liked her. And I don’t have testosterone through the roof.”

Snorting, he said, “Maybe you have more than me.” He put his shirt on, and started looking for his jeans. “No, she could be cool. The first time we had coffee, she was really great to talk to. But then it was like all she wanted was sex, or all she wanted was a near-celibate relationship. There was no in-between.”

“Did you wanna end it with her when you did?”

“I don’t know- where are my- oh, found them. Right, um, I don’t know if I cared enough. God, that makes me sound like an asshole.”

“Actually, it made you sound like Harry.”

Peter laughed. “Same difference. Wanna order pizza?”

“Ooh, yes please.”

He pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “Pepperoni?”

“Yep.”

While he was on the phone ordering pizza, I got us both glasses of water. I figured we could both use it. I handed him his as he was giving my address, and he mouthed a “thank you” before taking a sip.

When he hung up, he chugged the rest of the water. “Forty minutes. Do you wanna watch _Community_?”

“Sure.”

We got comfortable on the couch, and turned on Netflix, and got through two episodes before the pizza came. I buzzed the pizza guy in, Peter paid, and we got out plates and grabbed slices, and sat down again. Just as we did, Peter’s phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with a text from Harry.

I didn’t see what it said.

Peter frowned, and texted something back, getting an immediate response. Instead of texting again, he called.

“Harry, why is she there? No, no, I get that, but I gave it ba- tell her I did. Just give her the phone.”

I took a bite of pizza and tried to mind my own business, but it sounded like a Felicia thing.

“Yeah, hi, I don’t have it- Why wouldn’t I have given it back?” He stood up and started pacing. “Jess, I’m fucking over this.”

_Jess?_

“I’m not coming over to show you that I don’t have your shit in my room. Leave Harry alone.”

I hadn’t seen Peter this agitated before.

“No, we’re _done_. I don’t care. I- no, Jess, I’m over you. Can you stay out of my life for once?” he snapped.

 _Shit_.

“Thanks. Bye.”

He hung up and sighed, hanging his head.

“Jess?” I asked.

Peter nodded, sitting down on the couch again. “My ex. The one I dated for, like, six years on and off.”

“Right. What did she want?”

“She apparently left a sweater in the apartment, but I gave everything back to her the day we broke up.”

“Did you break up with her, or…?”

“God, I don’t know. It was a mess. At first, she wanted another break, and then halfway through the conversation I realized she was using our ‘breaks’ to go fuck around and keep me around for when that inevitably stopped being fun or she realized it wasn’t fulfilling or whatever the hell was going on. So I told her if she wanted a break, it was going to be permanent, and she tried to backpedal, and then kind of told me that she was sending nudes to one of her friends and wanted a break so she could ‘work on herself’ or something.”

“So she was cheating on you.”

“I guess. Anyways. Whenever we took breaks, I’d just sit at home and do nothing, because she always made me feel like she was the only person who’d tolerate me.”

I shifted to face him better. “That’s emotional abuse, Peter.”

He shook his head. “No, it was just my own self-esteem, I guess, and-”

“What did she say, specifically?”

“Um…she told me once that she was glad she’d actually gotten to know me, because based on looks she wouldn’t have dated me.”

“She’s a bully.”

“I mean-”

“Peter,” I said, and he looked at me, eyes big and a little watery. “Don’t make excuses for her. She was breaking down your self-esteem so you’d feel like she was your only option. That way she could leave and fuck every guy under the sun and come back and you’d still be there.”

He opened his mouth to protest, and then sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. It was just…shitty. Hearing her voice, too. I don’t know, it’s just…I used to hear it first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and love it. Hearing it just then made my stomach turn.”

“That’s probably a good thing. You’re not romanticizing her. You’re not at risk for falling back into her trap.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Hey.” I pulled him into a hug, and he squeezed me tight. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

“It’s not your fault,” he mumbled into my hair.

“I know. But you deserved better. You’re a really good guy, you’ll find someone who actually deserves that.” _Please let it be me_.

He held on tighter. “Thank you, Em. You’re really sweet.”

“What are friends with benefits for?” I teased.

His body shook with a soft laugh.

After a few more moments, he pulled away, and we ate our pizza and watched some more TV. When I was done eating, I laid across the couch, and he pulled me into his lap and played with my hair.

The butterflies in my stomach had a field day with that.

**Peter**

I ended up staying the night with MJ. Something about the idea of going home, knowing Jess had been there, made me feel sick.

I’d offered to sleep on the couch, but MJ had told me, “Don’t be a hero, Peter. The bed is warm and comfy, and it’s not like we haven’t shared one before.”

So I was laying in bed with her.

She was curled up on her side, facing away from me, and I wanted so badly to move closer and spoon her, but that felt like it was crossing a line.

The line felt blurry, based on the way she hugged me, and the way we were basically cuddling on the couch. And hadn’t I just broken up with Felicia because I didn’t want a relationship?

I couldn’t play games with MJ. That’d just be cruel.

Rolling over, I reminded myself that I didn’t want a relationship. I wasn’t ready for one. Even if there was a beautiful, smart, funny, perfect girl laying right next to me.

I couldn’t do that.

So no cuddles.

\---

In the morning, I went home, and Liz and Harry were waiting for me like parents.

“How was MJ?” Liz asked.

“Good. It was good. We watched TV and had pizza.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you stay there because of the Jess thing?”

“Yeah.”

They exchanged a look.

“So?” I asked.

Liz spoke first. “You need a night out.”

“No, no no no, it’s a Sunday. We’re not doing the bar.”

“Yes, we are. You don’t have to drink, but I do think you need to at least kiss a new set of lips,” she told me. “It’s science. It helps.”

“I don’t need help.”

Harry looked at me, narrowing his eyes. “Liz, can you give us a moment?”

She got up. “I’ll go get coffee. Usuals?”

I gave a thumbs up, Harry nodded.

“I’ll be back in a few.”

Once the front door closed behind her, Harry said, “You caught feelings for MJ.”

“No,” I said, too fast.

He scoffed. “I told you.”

“I don’t have feelings for her.”

“Is that why you broke up with Felicia?”

I stared at him. “No, Harry, I broke up with Felicia because the way she moved half her wardrobe and vanity in when I booty called her was borderline sociopathic.”

He sighed. “Alright. Sure. Let’s say you don’t have feelings for MJ-”

“I don’t.”

“Sure. Why did you stay with her last night? You guys hooked up earlier in the day. And we both know Jess is a bitch, but she’s not crazy enough to stay here until you get home.”

I sat down on the couch and let my head flop back. “Because I felt gross even hearing her voice. And all I could think about was sitting on this couch with her, and making breakfast in the kitchen, and brushing our teeth side-by-side in the bathroom, and how shitty she made me feel about myself. And then…then Em asked about it, because she heard that call, and I ended up telling her about the borderline cheating and the shitty things Jess said to me, and I felt better for talking about it, but I also felt worse.”

There was a moment of silence, before Harry said, “Do you think you’ll ever get back together with Jess?” He sounded worried.

I looked at him. “No. I- no. I can’t do that to myself. I felt like crap for six years.”

“Yeah. She was…a different breed of evil. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint-”

I snorted, and he smacked me. “Harry! You go through girls like I go through web fluid.”

“I treat them well when I do-”

“That doesn’t excuse ghosting any girl who asks you to go for coffee!”

He grabbed a throw pillow and hit me with it, and I managed to catch the edge and pull it away from him.

“Hey! Play nice!”

He was laughing, too, and stood up. “Alright, whatever. We’re still going out tonight.”

\---

I woke up late on Monday morning, and the girl I’d brought home that night had clearly snuck out before anyone was up.

Good. It saved me the awkward _please get out of my apartment so I can go to work_ conversation.

As I rushed through my morning routine, I thought about how that conversation had been one of MJ and I’s first conversations. And how wanted she made me feel that day.

I realized on my way to work that the weird feelings I’d had yesterday weren’t necessarily because I wanted to date her, she just had a knack for making me feel good. And I hadn’t had that in a long time. It was the positive attention I liked, not her.

That made me feel better.

When I went out patrolling that night, I felt pretty good, too. Like I had a little more pep in my…swing. Or something.

It just felt like Jess was finally gone. Out of my system. Out of my life, hopefully.

I slept well, alone in my bed. I didn’t hug a pillow, or dream about a warm body next to mine. I spread out, took up as much space as I could.

There was nothing left of hers in my closet. There was nothing left for her to come back for.

We were done.


	7. butterflies, ew

**MJ**

_Me: liz what are you up to_

_Liz: cooking a frozen lasagna_

_Me: is anyone else home?_

_Liz: no why?_

_Me: I’m coming over_

_Liz: okay_

I pulled on my shoes and walked over.

My whole body was shaking. It was stupid, but this was my general reaction to romantic feelings. Anxiety.

Telling Liz how I felt about Peter had to be a good first step. She and Peter were close, she could give me a good read on if I should tell him or not.

I got to the building, and Liz buzzed me in. I fidgeted the whole way up to the apartment, playing with a loose thread on my shirt, picking at my cuticles, twisting the hair tie on my wrist around itself.

When she opened the door for me, she gave me a weird look. “Are you okay?”

“I need advice,” I told her, stepping inside. “Nobody’s home?”

“Peter’s working late, and Harry took some girl out for drinks.”

“On a Wednesday?” I asked.

Liz shrugged. “That’s Harry for you. Have you eaten today?”

“I had lunch with a friend earlier.”

“Okay, so why do you look like you’re sick or something?”

I took a shaky breath. “I think I have a thing for Peter.”

She raised her eyebrows, and then nodded. “Alright, take a seat on the couch. I’ll make hot chocolate.”

“Spiked?”

“Spiked.”

I sat down, pulling my knees to my chest. Liz returned in a couple moments, handing me a mug.

“It’s hot. Careful.”

I blew across the surface, watching steam rise and curl and dissipate. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. Okay, so…I have so many questions.”

“Go for it.”

“I thought you guys were just…fucking around?”

I groaned. “We are. That’s the problem. And didn’t he break up with Felicia because he didn’t want a relationship?”

Liz sat down on the couch, crossing her legs and facing me. “I think so.”

“So I shouldn’t say anything.”

Liz stared into her mug for a moment. “MJ, I’m gonna be honest with you. I think you’re exactly who Peter needs in a relationship. But he doesn’t need a relationship right now. Jessica was really manipulative, and he’s just now getting back to being himself. He can’t get through the rest of the healing process if he’s seriously dating someone.”

I nodded. “Right.” I took a sip.

There was a moment of silence before Liz asked, “Why Peter?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great guy, but I figured you’d be into someone more along the lines of Harry.”

“Harry?”

“Well, you know what I mean. More assertive.”

I snorted. “Peter is plenty assertive where it matters-”

“ _EW!_ Too much information-”

“You asked!”

“I didn’t think-”

We both dissolved into laughter, and then when it died, sat there for a moment, sipping our drinks. I could just barely taste the alcohol in it.

“You and Peter would be cute.”

“Liz-”

“No, seriously. You would.” She took a sip. “He’s- he was, rather, a really good boyfriend to Jess. Way better than she deserved. And I- correct me if I’m wrong, but I feel like you’ve never had that.”

I shook my head.

“Exactly. And you’re such an above and beyond person. And so is he. I don’t know, I think you two would be perfect together.” She sighed. “Man, Jess really throws a wrench into everything.”

“I don’t even know her and I wanna punch her.”

Liz laughed. “That feeling only gets stronger as she gets closer to you.”

“How’d they end up together?”

She look in a deep breath, the way people do when they’re getting into something they have a lot of thoughts about. “She had kind of a messed up childhood, and got bullied a bit at school. She and Peter had that in common. And then she somehow convinced him she was the only person who’d ever understand him. I don’t even know if he was into her at the beginning, I think she somehow tricked him into it.”

“Okay, so super emotionally abusive.”

Liz nodded. “But you can’t tell him that because he somehow thinks he can’t possibly be the victim of emotional abuse.”

“Fuck the patriarchy.”

Liz raised her mug. “Fuck the patriarchy.”

We clinked mugs and drank.

Liz hesitated. “So I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“You don’t talk about your dating history.”

“That’s not a question,” I pointed out.

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“There’s just nothing to talk about. I don’t really date, I guess. Haven’t found anyone I like enough.”

“Nobody?”

I shrugged. “I dated a bit in college, but nothing lasted longer than, like, five or six months. I wasn’t even looking for a relationship when Peter and I met, so…I don’t know why-”

The window by the dinner table opened loudly, and I turned to see Peter, pulling off his Spider-Man mask and falling into the apartment.

“Jesus!” Liz shouted, jumping up and running over. I set my mug down and ran after her, helping him up.

“Um, I was at a costume party?” he offered, clearly bruised and scratched up. His hand was pressed against his stomach, right under his ribs, blood leaking between his fingers.

“I already knew, don’t worry,” I told him. “Let’s get you patched up. Liz, can you grab him some clean clothes?”

“Sure.” She went off to his room.

“Where’s the first aid kit?”

Peter cleared his throat. “In the kitchen, under the sink.”

“Alright, come on.”

Peter’s arm was around my shoulder, and I helped him into the kitchen, letting him lean against the counter while I pulled out the first aid kit.

“Suit off.”

“Well, gosh, buy me dinner first,” he teased, hitting the spider emblem in the middle of his chest. The suit loosened and started to fall away, only hindered by the blood caked around his wound, keeping it stuck.

“Sorry, this isn’t going to feel good,” I warned him, gently tugging the suit, trying to peel it away from skin.

He sucked in air through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. I whispered another apology, giving one final tug. The suit fell away.

“What happened?” I asked, looking at the wound. His skin was burnt and blistered, and the wound certainly wasn’t a clean cut.

“I got stabbed with this weird electrical thing. It looked like an antenna but spikier.”

“How fast do you heal?”

“This’ll be gone by morning,” he assured me.

“Okay, um, I’m gonna clean it up a little. Do you need something to bite down on?”

He nodded. I grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl, and handed it to him.

“What am I, a pig roast?” he joked, smile just barely reaching his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure your whole job is a roast on pigs.”

“Touché.”

He grabbed the apple and bit into it, and I poured some hydrogen peroxide on a cloth and started to clean the wound. He scrunched up his face a bit, and gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white.

Liz came out and set some clean clothes on the counter. “Peter, you need to do laundry.”

He laughed, muffled by the apple, and Liz seemed to relax a bit.

“Do you guys have any Vaseline?”

“Yep, I’ll grab it,” Liz said, going to a cabinet above the stove. There were tons of painkillers, Band-Aids, vitamins, ointments, all shoved onto one shelf, below some recipe books. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Peter took the apple out of his mouth as I spread some over the blistered skin, and then taped the wound shut, wrapped it in gauze, and covered it with a bandage.

“There you go,” I told him, handing him the shirt Liz had brought out. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

I helped him pull the shirt over his head so he didn’t accidentally dislodge the bandage.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Liz asked.

“Took a first aid class in college. It was mostly because I would be the designated driver a lot, and I wanted to know what to do if someone had alcohol poisoning or something.”

“Well, it paid off,” Peter said. “That was…professional.”

I snorted. “Thanks. Try not to get stabbed next time, though, tiger.”

“Spider,” Liz corrected, and I shrugged.

“I don’t, like, invite it!”

Liz crossed her arms. “You totally do. Snarking at assholes with weapons is usually a one-way ticket to the ER.”

“Are you victim-blaming me?” Peter asked with feigned offence, grabbing the fresh sweats and pulling them on.

“Yes, yes I am.”

The oven beeped, and Liz jumped. “Oh, right, lasagna.”

I pulled Peter out of the way while Liz grabbed oven mitts.

“I feel like I need a shower before I can eat.”

He started off towards his room, and I grabbed his arm to stop him. “You need to waterproof that before you shower.”

“What?”

“How have you not been killed by an infection?”

“I don’t get stabbed often.”

“Whatever. Come on, let’s run down to the store and grab some tape. I gotta show you what to buy.”

“She’s good to have around,” Liz said. “I can’t handle all the blood and gore.”

Peter grabbed his shoes and keys, and we headed out.

Once we were alone in the elevator, Peter said softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s a lot. I didn’t mean for you to find out about the whole gig at all, let alone find out and immediately have to help me.”

“Peter, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You’re a terrible liar. It was incredibly easy to figure out.’

He looked at me. “That doesn’t necessarily make me feel better.”

“I knew and I stuck around.” I looked at him, and he smiled.

“Yeah, I guess you did.”

The elevator doors opened, and we kept going, the air between us falling silent.

We walked a couple blocks to a drug store with a pharmacy, and I showed him where the bandages and tapes were, and we picked up a bunch of supplies.

We went through self-checkout to avoid an awkward conversation, Peter grabbing a RedBull at the last second, and then headed back to the apartment.

“Thanks,” he said. “Clearly, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

I laughed. “It’s alright. I’m glad I got to you before you died of an infection.”

“Meh, I’m sure I’d be fine.”

“Peter!”

“What? Liz’s dad dropped a building on me once. I’m fine.”

I blinked. “Are you serious? What?”

He smiled and shook his head. “I’ll tell you when we get home.”

As we walked, I wondered how in the hell he and Liz were so close if her dad had dropped a whole building on him. _How? Was there no tension about that? Does that not come up over dinner? What?_

We got back to the apartment, and I unpacked the bag from the drug store, putting the tapes and bandages in the first aid kit.

“Uh, MJ, were you gonna help me tape up my bandage?” he asked. “So I can shower?”

I stared at him, and then the tape I’d just put in the kit. “Right. Oops.” I took the tape back out. “Alright, shirt off.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, opening his mouth to say something suggestive. I shot him a glare, and he closed his mouth.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

I laughed. “It’s okay.”

He pulled his shirt off.

“Where’s Liz?”

“In here!” she called from her bedroom. “I just cleaned up the blood and I’m changing!”

“Thank you!” Peter called back.

I started to apply the tape around the bandage, tearing at it with my teeth. “Alright, so, for future reference, when you’re taping something for waterproofing purposes, you generally need a two-inch border. This tape is an inch thick, so two strips on each side.” I demonstrated, adding a second strip next to the first, carefully laying it down and smoothing away creases and air bubbles.

“Okay, okay, I can remember that.”

I looked at him. “I’ll write it down.”

“Thank you.” He smiled that lopsided, boyish, goofy smile, and my heart skipped a beat.

I smoothed down the tape, and put the roll back in the first aid kit. “Alright, you’re free to shower.”

He wasn’t moving, so I looked at him. His smile was a little less boyish and goofy. “You wanna come with me?”

I opened my mouth, meaning to say no, but instead, “Absolutely,” came out.

His grin spread, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me into his bedroom.

_Why was I like this?_

The water was hot as it streamed over us. Peter was picking me up and pinning me to the shower wall. It felt good, _so good_ , but my head wasn’t in it. I let my head fall back against the tile, and stared at the ceiling while his lips were against my neck.

_Why couldn’t I say no to him?_

He had my wrists in one hand, pinned over my head. His free hand was between my legs, he was angled just right as he thrusted.

He was doing everything right.

_Why couldn’t I just relax?_

It took longer than usual, but at least we both finished.

Later, I laid awake in his bed, while he slept, chest rising and falling slowly.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand, and opened Tinder for the first time in weeks, and started swiping.

One of the first people that came up was Brad, 26, financial advisor.

He was kinda cute. Tan, dark hair, big biceps.

I swiped right. We matched.

I dismissed the screen, but then got a message from him.

_Brad: do you also have a guilt complex around watching b99 now, or is that just me?_

I messaged back.

_Me: oh for sure. you know the justice system is bad when you’re rooting for doug judy_

_Brad: exactly lol_

_Brad: the bar on my block has a b99 trivia night on Friday, you in?_

I hesitated. He was a total stranger, but it was a public bar. I’d just text Miles and maybe Liz and let them know where I was.

_Me: sure_

I glanced at Peter, and sighed. If only he were ready for a relationship.

I sent Brad my number, and then put my phone back down and laid down.


	8. you can go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr saw it first, links at the end of the chapter :)

**Peter**

That Friday, I texted MJ asking if she wanted to come over, but she said she was busy. So instead, Harry decided it was boy’s night. He texted Ned, and the three of us went out.

Ned was talking about Betty non-stop. They’d been out a few times since my birthday, and it was very clear that Ned was head over heels for her.

As we were drinking and talking about Ned’s love life, my mind kept drifting back to MJ. She’d been weird for the last couple of days, and now she was saying no to hanging out. Which was fine, I wasn’t her boyfriend, I didn’t need to know where she was or who she was with or what she was doing.

The more Ned talked, the more I realized how good a relationship could be. Ned kept talking about their cute dates, the sweet things Betty had said and done, how good he felt because of her, and I felt a pang in my chest.

I’d been thinking of relationships as the one I’d been in, and how it felt, and how shitty the whole thing had been, and hadn’t considered that some relationships are good and happy and loving and fulfilling.

I left the bar early, telling Harry and Ned I was tired (which wasn’t untrue, it just wasn’t the reason I was leaving), and walked home.

The air was starting to cool off as summer was coming to an end, and as I walked home, I wished I’d worn more than just a t-shirt and jeans. It was late, and there was a chilly breeze, and I had too fast a metabolism for the alcohol to still be warming me.

I got to the building, and stood in the elevator, leaning against the wall as I waited for my floor.

The doors opened, and I stepped out, walking down the hall to my apartment, stopping cold when I saw someone standing outside the door.

“Jess?”

She turned around, and looked at me, nose and eyes pink. She smiled, just a little. “Hey.”

**MJ**

“Okay, these questions are way too easy,” I said, taking a sip of my water. “Everyone knows Cheddar is played by multiple dogs.”

Brad laughed and nodded. “They all look different, too!”

“Exactly.”

The scores showed up on the screen ahead of us, and Brad and I were second.

I frowned. “Who’s ahead of us?”

Brad and I looked around, and saw a couple closer to front doing a little happy dance and clinking glasses.

“Alright,” I said, turning back to him. “That’s who we have to beat.”

“Deal.”

The countdown for the next round started, and we got ready to answer questions as quickly as possible.

**Peter**

“I didn’t leave anything here,” she admitted.

“Y-yeah, I know, Jess. What are you-”

“I missed you.”

I stared at her.

“Can I come in?”

Before I could stop myself, I was nodding.

My stomach twisted in time with my key in the lock. I didn’t want this to go the same way it always did. She’d apologize, promise to change, and I’d feel guilty enough to fall into the trap. And here I was, letting her set the cheese.

She followed me into the apartment, and I gestured at the couch. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks. Can I- can I have some water, please?”

“Sure.”

I felt overly aware of her every move as I got a glass and filled it at the kitchen sink. She was sitting on the couch as if she’d never left, taking up almost the whole couch, slinging her sweater over the back of it.

When I turned and made my way over, she pulled her knees up to her chest, giving me big watery eyes when I gave her the glass.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. Um, what did you wanna talk about?”

She sniffled. “I miss you. I-I made mistakes, but I wanna be better.”

“Jess, you cheated on me. That’s more than a mistake.”

“I didn’t- cheating is a strong word. I-I didn’t ever sleep with anyone while we were together.”

“No, you just sent them nudes, and broke up with me to sleep with them and then begged me for forgiveness when you were done with them.”

She swallowed. “Yeah.”

I stared at her. “Yeah? That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say? I’ve apologized about a million times-”

“Oh, how could I forget the ‘I’m sorry I slept with someone I think is hotter and richer and that you can’t be that and maybe it’s actually you’re fault I keep leaving because you’re just not good enough’ speech?”

“I never said you were never good enough-”

“Yes, you did.”

“If I did, it wasn’t true. You’re-you’re too good for me, Peter. I didn’t deserve you then, and I don’t- I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I need you.”

Somehow, she was actually tugging at my heartstrings. Telling me she needed me was my kryptonite.

But I didn’t believe her.

“Why me?”

She stared at me, lip quivering. “What?”

“Why do you need me, specifically?”

“I love you.”

“But why do you need me?”

She hesitated.

I continued. “Because I was reliably easy to walk all over for six years? Because you can’t find anyone else you can manipulate and fuck over again and again and again-”

“Stop!”

“Stop coming back to me!”

Jess looked genuinely hurt for a moment, and I almost apologized for shouting, but she spoke before I could. “You love me, I know you do.”

It felt wrong. It felt untrue. And before I could stop myself, spare her feelings, I blurted out the truth. “No, I don’t.”

She flinched. “What?”

“I don’t think I ever did. I think I just felt like you were the only person who would ever tolerate me, because you made me feel like I wasn’t enough for anyone, especially you. But you came back, and I thought you were doing me a favour.”

“That’s not-”

“I didn’t love you, Jess. You made me need you.”

She let out a breathy laugh. “That’s the same thing.”

I shook my head. “You don’t love me, you need a doormat.”

Her demeanor changed. “Do you not remember how much I did for you?” she snapped. “Do you not remember how I was there for you-”

“Get out of my apartment.”

“I could fuck up your life,” she warned.

She couldn’t. She didn’t know anything. But the thought made my heartrate spike.

“I dare you.”

She was visibly shocked. “I don’t know who you are.”

“Get out.”

She set the glass down on the coffee table with a _thunk_ , grabbed her sweater, and stormed out of the apartment.

I stared at the space she’d occupied, and smiled to myself.

_MJ would be so proud of me._

**MJ**

“We make a good team,” Brad said, handing me my half of the prize (a movie theatre pass) and grinning.

“We do.” My phone buzzed in my hand. “Sorry, my Uber is here-”

“Yeah, I’ll walk you out.”

He left a tip on the table, and walked with me out of the bar.

There was a grey car parked right out from, window rolled down.

“Uber for Michelle?”

“That’s me!” I called over, before turning back to Brad. “Um, I had fun. Thanks for inviting me out.”

“No problem. Um, do you maybe wanna use these tickets for a movie next week?” he asked. “Since we have tickets to use.”

I smiled. “Sure.”

He didn’t look like he was going to kiss me, so I leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Text me?”

“Yeah.”

I opened the Uber’s door. “Have a goodnight.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The Uber home was uneventful (thank goodness), and when I got home, I found myself smiling as I went about my evening routine.

He was nice, and funny, and cute, and I was kind of into him.

I was looking forward to a movie date with a boy that wasn’t Peter, and that felt good.

**Peter**

Harry came home late, surprisingly not with a girl.

“Did you strike out?” I asked.

“No, no, I was just…”

“Ned killed it for you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah! What is up with him? Ever since he met Betty, he’s been killing my sex drive.”

I blinked.

“Okay, that came out weird.”

“You’re about to come out weird if you’re not careful,” I teased.

He laughed, and sat down on the couch with me. “Where’s Liz?”

“With Betty.”

“Figures. I wonder if Betty’s yapping her ear off about Ned and their perfect relationship.”

I snorted. “Probably.”

Harry sighed. “It’s cute, I guess. I don’t know. It makes me want to get a puppy, though.”

“Why?”

“Cuddles.”

“Fair.”

We fell silent for a moment.

“You seem down,” Harry remarked.

I sighed. “Jess was here when I got home.”

“Wait, let me guess. She gave you some sob story about how she tried to move on, nobody was like you, and she needs you to survive.”

“Close,” I told him. “She gave me a sob story about how she missed me, and knew she made mistakes and didn’t deserve me, but needs me to survive and loves me and knows I love her and yada yada yada.”

“And what did you say?”

“I told her I didn’t love her.”

Harry whipped his head to look at me. “What?”

“Yep.”

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Not well. Threatened to ruin my life, tried to guilt trip me, and then eventually left in a huff.”

“How does she plan on ruining your life?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I never told her about the whole side gig.”

He put his feet up on the coffee table. “Well. I’m glad you didn’t get back together with her.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“She’s bad for you.”

“Yeah.”

We fell silent again, for a few moments.

“Um, if I tell you something, you gotta promise it stays between us.”

“Sure,” Harry agreed.

I took in a breath. “I think that maybe the reason I didn’t fall for it with Jess this time is because I don’t have feelings for her anymore.”

He frowned. “Yeah, wasn’t that…the whole point?”

I let my head fall back on the back of the couch. “No- I mean, yeah, kind of- it’s that I didn’t- I don’t have feelings for _her_.”

“Yeah, you like MJ.”

I lifted my head and looked at him, puzzled.

“It’s obvious, Peter.”

“What?”

Harry smirked. “Okay, let’s break down tonight, for example. You looked like a kicked puppy when MJ said she was busy and couldn’t hang out. The whole time we were at the bar with Ned, and he was talking about Betty, you were either checking your phone or staring at a wall and daydreaming. You left early, which you never do, especially when we’re hanging out with Ned. You’re lovesick.”

“But I don’t know if I like her or if I just like that she’s nice to me.”

“Liz is nice to you,” Harry pointed out. “Betty’s nice to you. Jean is nice to you. Also, I don’t think you’re attracted to nice.”

“Of course I am.”

“Jess isn’t nice. Felicia wasn’t nice.”

I sank in my seat. “Okay, fair point.”

Harry shifted to face me better. “Listen. MJ’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. I have never seen you more confident or happy.”

“That’s just not being with Jess, though.”

“It didn’t start until MJ came around.”

“Don’t make sense at me,” I joked.

“I’ll get you a drink,” he chuckled, getting up.

“Thanks.”

“Seriously, Peter, you need to stop second guessing yourself.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” I deadpanned, “I’m cured.”

He stared at me. “MJ’s rubbing off on you.”

I almost rolled my eyes at him, and caught myself. “Oh, god, she is.”

He snorted, and brought me a beer. I pulled the cap off with my hand and took a sip.

Harry stared at me, and held up a bottle opener. “I forget about the super strength sometimes.”

“Sorry.”

He laughed and opened his own bottle and then returned to the couch.

“Are you gonna tell her?” he asked.

“Why are you, of all people, promoting a relationship?” I deflected.

He took a sip. “Just because I’m a whore doesn’t mean I think you should be. You’ve had your hoe phase, you can get out of it.”

I laughed. “Who _are_ you?”

“I’ve hung out with Liz too much.” He shook his head, still laughing at himself. “But I’m serious. I’m not good with relationships, which I’m sure will bite me in the ass at some point, but you are. You were really good to Jess, whether or not she was a demon in disguise.”

I snorted.

“Also, I like MJ, and you’re the only one in the apartment that’s slept with her, so that’s a good sign.”

“Side note,” I interjected, “were you also convinced that she and Liz would sleep together at some point? And then-”

“Yeah, because Liz kept talking about how pretty MJ is, and then they just became super close friends? That was weird.”

“Now they just gang up on us to make fun of us.”

“Yep,” Harry chuckled. “Makes it less weird for you to ask MJ out.”

“I don’t know if I’m gonna do that.”

“You should. She hasn’t really gone out with anyone since the night she and Liz and Betty went out.”

“That doesn’t mean she likes me.”

“But what if she does?” he challenged.

I sighed. “Does it matter? Should I even be looking for a relationship right now? I had to turn Jess away today. And she and I broke up a couple of months ago. That was a six-year relationship-”

“A shaky six years-”

“Well, yeah, but I was committed that whole time. So I’m two months out of six years. What if I need more time?”

He looked at me. “Do you think you need more time, or do you think you should need more time?”

“Dude, when did you become a philosopher?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

I blinked. “I-I don’t know.”

Harry took a sip of his beer. “So what’s the harm in finding out?”

“Because I’d be finding out that hard way? And maybe ruin a friendship?”

He shook his head. “MJ’s not going anywhere. She’s part of our weird little family now.” He finished his beer. I’d still barely started mine.

“I-I don’t know, Harry. I like her, she’s a great friend, and we have good sex, but I’m just…confused.”

“Confused about what?”

I shrugged.

“Okay, let’s say that we know for sure that you like her. What else is holding you back?”

“What if she’s not right for me? What if we date and ruin the friendship, and then our weird little family gets awkward and tense?”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“She’s perfect for you. You know how I know?” he asked, standing up and heading to the kitchen.

“How?” I challenged.

“May would love her.”

I turned and stared at him over the couch.

He smirked. “I’m right.”

“I know.” I kept staring. “Oh, my god, May would love her.”

“Are you gonna finish your beer?”

“No.”

“I’ll take it. You go sleep on this whole thing, tell me how you feel in the morning.”

I got up, and put the beer on the counter in front of him. “Does May liking a girl make her perfect for me?”

“Go to bed, Peter.”

“She called me tiger the other night.”

Harry looked at me, and I realized the thought of her calling me tiger made my stomach twist, in a different way than it had when I was letting Jess into the apartment earlier.

“When I came in after I got stabbed, she bandaged me up, and then told me not to get stabbed again. She said, ‘Try not to get stabbed next time, tiger.’ It was weird.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’ve got weird kinks.”

“What? No! That’s not- it’s not a kink!”

He laughed.

“It was just…kinda cute, I guess.”

He grabbed the beer and took a sip. “You didn’t touch this.”

“Yeah, I don’t like beer.”

“Are you gonna ask her out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sleep on it.”

I sighed, putting my hands in my pockets and looking down. “Maybe.”

He groaned. “Alright, well, I’m going to bed, because it’s like two in the morning, and I’m exhausted from listening to my lovesick friends.”

I snorted. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, tiger.”

“Ew, no, don’t.”

He winked at me, and then went to bed.

I hated him when he was right. I guess that was why I asked him for advice, though.

I went to bed, too, but didn’t sleep at all. MJ’s voice played in my head through the night, only fading when the sun came up.


	9. an almost confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus scene for this chapter is available on my second tumblr :) [x](https://caramelcaramelcaramel.carrd.co/)

**Peter**

“Do you really think I should tell her?” I asked Harry, as he was gelling his hair and texting his date.

“Yes, obviously.”

“But do you _really_ think-”

He sighed, and cut me off. “Peter, she told you she’s coming over after a movie tonight, right?”

“Yeah, I think she’s out with Miles.”

“So it’s late, but not late enough to be considered a strict booty call.”

I stared at him.

“Obviously, that means you guys can talk.”

“Right. Obviously.”

Harry look at me. “You’ll be fine. I’m gonna go pick this girl up, alright?”

“Okay.”

He ruffled my hair and grinned. “You’ll be fine, sport.”

“You’re a dick,” I said, trying not to crack a smile as I started to fix my hair.

“You still love me.” He started to head out.

I sat down on the couch. “Don’t get mugged, I don’t wanna suit up.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get stabbed just for you.”

I dropped the sarcasm. “Have fun.”

He smiled. “You too.” The door closed behind him.

“You know,” Liz said, coming out of her room, “you two would make a great couple.”

I snorted. “He’d cheat on me.”

“He would.”

Liz sat down next to me. “My date cancelled.”

“Women,” I lamented, and Liz laughed.

“Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.”

“Well, I can live with one or two, but it’s either gotta be a mother figure or a lesbian.”

She laughed again, smacking me lightly. “You’re a dumbass.”

“I get that a lot.”

She checked the time. “Well, I was gonna go get dinner, but that’s not happening. Do you wanna order some take-out?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She went and grabbed her laptop, and we went through the take-out menu of a new Italian place a few blocks away.

“MJ’s coming over in a bit, right?”

“Yeah, whenever the movie’s over.”

“Should we order some extra food for her?”

“Sure.”

We doubled an order of penne, and placed the order.

It said it’d be ready in half an hour, so we decided to have a drink and watch some TV while we waited to go walk for it.

When the notification came up that it would be ready in 10 minutes, Liz stood.

“Liz, it’s getting dark, I’ll go.”

She was about to open her mouth to protest when MJ texted me.

_MJ: I’m downstairs, can you buzz me in?_

“MJ’s here, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“See? I’ll go and just let her in.”

She grabbed her coat and walked out before I could stop her.

_Me: Liz is heading out to pick up some food so she’ll let you in_

_MJ: sweet_

I let myself sink into the couch again, worrying a little about Liz. It wasn’t too dark, and she had a little taser ring I’d made her years ago, but still. She was a black woman walking around New York as the sun was setting, alone. I wondered a little if I should’ve insisted on going instead, or with her.

But then MJ walked in, smile on her face.

“Hey, tiger, what’s up?”

I groaned. “Is that nickname really sticking?”

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Why are you so perky?”

“Because,” she said, setting her purse down next to the coffee table, “I just went on a really great date.”

My stomach sank. I swore my heartbeat got louder, thundering in my ears.

“You didn’t tell me you were on a date.”

“Yeah, no, I talked to Liz and Miles about it, so that they knew who’s picture to show to the police if I was murdered, but I didn’t wanna really talk about it until I was sure about the guy.”

“So you’ve gone out more than once.”

She giggled a little, and god, I felt shitty that I’d been working up to telling her how I felt only to get my plans stepped on, but it was so nice to see her happy.

“His name is Brad. Brad Davis. By the way, you wouldn’t recognize that name, right? He’s not secretly selling underground alien weapons?”

“No, I don’t think he was employed under Liz’s dad,” I answered, teasingly.

She laughed. “Okay, just checking.”

“So,” I pushed, “go on. How many dates have you guys been on, where does he fall on the attractiveness compass thingy, blah blah blah.”

“Oh, god, okay. Um, tonight was our second date, but we’ve talked every single day since our first date. And he’s just…we have a lot of fun. We did a Brooklyn Nine-Nine trivia night at a bar last week and we came in first by a landslide, and then went to an arcade and saw a movie tonight and I had such a good time. It’s so nice to go out with a guy and actually enjoy myself, y’know? Like it’s happened twice in the past few years and you’re the other instance. Anyways, we were in the arcade playing Pac-Man, because it’s a classic, you can’t go to an arcade and not play Pac-Man, and we were-”

I started to tune it out, focused more on keeping my face from falling than paying attention to how dreamy and perfect Brad was. Brad sounded like a douchebag name, anyways, but I didn’t say that.

Liz came back in, carrying two bags. “Alright, kids, lets get to eating.”

I was relieved to be done with talking about Brad.

\---

The three of us ate together, and Liz went to bed soon after. MJ and I stayed up a little longer, finishing the movie the three of us had started, along with a bottle of wine.

“Hey,” I said, “you’re gonna end up, like, seriously dating this guy, right?”

She shrugged, then gave kind of a half-nod. “Probably, I guess.”

“Last chance, then, huh?” I gestured to my bedroom.

She glanced back at my room, then me, then kind of lightly laughed.

“I’m sorry, Peter, I’m tired.”

The rejection stung, but I was already assuring her, “No, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“Any other night, I would.”

_No, she wouldn’t._

“Anyways,” she said, “more wine? There’s another bottle in the fridge, I think.”

“Yeah, sure.”

We finished another bottle before we both passed out on the couch.

**MJ**

When I woke up, my head was just a little achy, and I was grateful for the sound of rain on the fire escape. That meant no sunlight.

There was a fleece throw blanket over me, and I was alone on the couch.

The last thing I remembered was laying across the couch as the movie was ending, asking Peter if he’d walk me home in a few minutes.

Clearly, he didn’t. Probably because Wine Drunk MJ was sleepy, and he was too nice to wake me.

I sat up and looked at his door, only to find it was still closed.

And a small part of me wondered.

_Am I making a mistake?_

_Should I have said yes last night?_

_Is it too late to say yes now?_

I laid back down, reaching for my purse and pulling out my phone.

_Brad: good morning :)_

The text was about half an hour old.

_Me: good morning_

_Me: I had fun last night_

_Brad: me too_

_Brad: do you wanna come over tonight for dinner?_

_Brad: I make a good chicken parm_

I looked at Peter’s door again, and I could almost hear his voice, asking me last night if I saw this thing with Brad going anywhere serious.

And, honestly, I could. I didn’t see any red flags, I just saw a guy that was kind and fun and wanted to make me chicken parm. Isn’t that what I needed?

_Me: what time?_

_Me: and what kind of wine pairs well with chicken parm?_

The apartment started to wake. Liz walked out of her room and straight to the kitchen for coffee, muttering a soft, “Good morning, MJ.”

“Morning, Liz. How’d you sleep?”

“Not great,” she admitted. “You?”

“I don’t know. I’m a little hungover.”

“Yeah, we got through a fair amount of wine last night. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

She started to brew a pot, yawning as she put the filter and coffee grounds in and started the coffee maker.

“How’s Brad?” she asked.

“Good. I think I’m going over to his place tonight.”

“Oooh, spicy.”

I chuckled. “It’s for dinner. He’s cooking.”

“Yeah, well, I think I know what he wants for dessert.”

“Liz!”

She laughed.

I heard a phone ring from Peter’s room, and found myself looking over that way, part of me hoping to see him walk out and look all sleepy and dorky, but it rang twice and then went silent.

At least, for a couple of moments, before I heard a groggy yet panicked, “FUCK!”

He burst out the door a moment later, still pulling on pants, sweater only half-on, hair a bird’s nest on top of his head.

“Morning, guys, I’m off to the base.”

“The Avengers base?” I asked.

He nodded, grabbing an apple. “I’ll see you guys later!”

And then he was out the door.

Liz smiled to herself. “Three, two, one-”

He threw the door open and ran back into his room. “Forgot the backpack!”

“The backpack?” I asked.

“With the suit,” Liz clarified.

Peter ran out again, carrying his backpack this time, and forgetting to close the door.

“I got it.” I dragged myself off the couch and closed the door, and then returned to the kitchen. “How often does that happen?”

She shrugged. “It depends. Once in a while, it’s every single day. Then it won’t happen for six months. Just wait and check what weird news story is trending on Twitter by the end of the day.”

I blinked. “Okay. Noted.”

She handed me a mug. “Let me know if you want more sugar.”

I took a sip. “Mm, no, this is perfect.”

Liz nodded. “Okay, well, here’s the plan. We’re gonna watch some John Mulaney while we drink our coffee and wake up, and then we’re gonna eat some leftovers, then we’re gonna head over to your place and get you all dolled up for your hot date tonight.”

“Yeah, I can get behind that.”

\---

The day went well. And by the time the evening rolled around, Liz had boosted my self-esteem through the roof, and my outfit looked straight off the runway. And these were clothes I usually wore with other things around the house. I didn’t know they could look so good.

I needed Liz around more often.

I Ubered over to Brad’s apartment, and he buzzed me in.

Despite feeling as though I knew him fairly well, I realized I had no idea what to expect from his apartment, and that made me nervous.

The building was nice. When he buzzed me in, and I entered the main part of the building, I was hit by the smell of burning candles.

It wasn’t too bad.

I took the elevator up, found his apartment, and knocked.

The door opened, and he smiled at me, a warm glow coming from inside a slightly-under-decorated apartment.

He was a guy, it was what I expected.

“Hey, you look…wow.”

I smiled, wider than I meant to. “Thank you.”

\---

The date went well. The chicken parm was well-seasoned and came with good banter. I helped him with the dishes after we ate, after a lot of insisting because he refused to let me help at first. But he and I developed a good rhythm, him washing and me drying, and chatted and joked and teased as we did.

Around the last few dishes, he accidentally splashed me, getting suds on me.

“Oh, you know this means war.” I grabbed a handful of suds and threw them at him, and it started a whole fight around the sink. Soaps bubbles were flying, both of us were laughing and shielding our faces from sudsy onslaughts, and then, finally, he grabbed me by the forearms and pulled me in to kiss me.

It wasn’t a bad kiss, but I wasn’t sure there was a spark. Or maybe I was just being too cynical for my own good.

And then he pulled away, and smiled. “I’ve been too nervous to do that.”

I smiled back. “I don’t bite. At least, not the first time.”

He didn’t seem to get it for a second, and then kind of half-laughed. “Oh, I-I get it.”

I tried not to let my face fall.


	10. blindsided

**Peter**

_Me: hey what are you up to tonight_

_Me: wanna come over and watch snl_

_MJ: I’m hanging out w brad tonight_

_MJ: sorry_

_MJ: say hi to liz and harry from me!_

I looked up from my phone.

“She’s with Brad.”

Liz pouted. “He’s stealing all her time.”

“It happens,” I shrugged.

Harry gave me a sympathetic look, but didn’t say anything.

“Alright, well, more couch space for me,” Liz said, trying to lighten the mood.

“You guys can actually watch without me. I think I’ll do some patrolling.”

Harry frowned. “You should rest, dude, you’ve gone out every night this week.”

“Yeah, well, things have been extra weird since the Avengers thing last week. More alien weapons on the street.”

Both of them looked at me funny.

“It’s fine, guys, it’s my job. I’ll see you later,” I said, backing into my room.

They let it go.

“Be safe,” Liz warned me, “I’m not as good at first aid as MJ.”

“We’ll wait up for you,” Harry added.

“Yeah, thanks, guys. Enjoy the show.”

I closed my bedroom door.

“What’s up with him lately?” Liz asked. “Is this about MJ?”

“Who knows,” Harry sighed, despite knowing exactly what it was. “Maybe it’s just the gloomy weather.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

I went to grab my suit, and then my phone lit up.

_Felicia: hey ;)_

I grabbed my phone, and double-checked that Harry hadn’t decided to prank me and switch around the numbers and contacts again. I’d learned my lesson in college, thank you very much.

But it was her.

_Me: hey, I didn’t think I’d hear from you again_

_Felicia: you should know by now that I’m full of surprises_

Fair enough.

_Felicia: what are you up to?_

_Me: nothin much, settling down for snl w liz and harry_

_Me: you?_

_Felicia: wishing you’d come over_

Oh.

_Me: is everything okay?_

_Felicia: peter do I need to spell it out for you, or would you prefer visuals?_

Dumb teenage brain wanted to ask for the visuals, but I had to be even a little bit better than that.

_Me: that’s alright, I’ll be right over._

I left my backpack alone, and grabbed a hoodie, leaving my room.

“I’m actually gonna go spend the evening with May,” I lied.

Liz and Harry both narrowed their eyes at me, clearly not believing me, but let it go.

“Alright, say hi from us,” Liz said, like a mother who knows you’re sneaking out to a party.

“I will. See you.”

I walked out the front door and checked my phone, part of me hoping it would be MJ asking me to pick her up or saying she’d bail on Brad or something.

But nope.

No new notifications.

So I went downstairs, hailed a taxi, and turned off my phone.

**MJ**

“I just think it’s kind of pretentious-”

“What? No! It’s brilliant! The set-up was amazing and it’s such a cool detail-”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t significant for the story, it was just-”

“It doesn’t need to be significant for the st- is my phone going off?”

Brad listened for a moment, and heard the buzzing. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Hold on.”

I ran to the closet and grabbed my coat, pulling my phone out of my pocket and answering before I even checked the number.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is-is this Michelle? Michelle Jones?” I didn’t recognize the voice, but it was older and female.

“Yeah, speaking. Sorry, who is this?”

“Um, you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t recognize me, I guess. Um, my name is Janie. My husband, Darren, and I had a kid 25 years ago, and we were too young and couldn’t give her a good life, so we gave her up for adoption. And I think…I think that’s you.”

My ears started ringing. It added up. 25 years, she knew my full name…

“How’d you find me?”

“Uh, well, when you were officially adopted, we were contacted by the agency, I think by accident. So I knew who your adoptive parents were. And I called them earlier today and they gave us your number-”

_Note to self: Call Mom and ask her what the fuck is going on._

“-and it’s really important I talk to you because your father got a terminal diagnosis today, and we want to get to know you before he passes.”

I was reeling. I could almost feel myself going pale.

“Um, I need to…I don’t…I’m gonna call my par- adoptive parents, and, um-”

“Yeah, of course. But, you’ll have my number in your phone, now, right?”

I checked the screen. Sure enough, the number was right there. It was an out-of-state area code.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll, um…I’ll call you back.”

“Okay, okay. I’m really sorry, Michelle. We never wanted to give you up, we just…”

I bit back a smart-ass response. _I was just a mistake, I get it. You guys were young and irresponsible and stupid, that’s fine._ “Yeah, it’s fine. I’ll call you back. Bye.”

I didn’t wait for a response, and hung up.

“I’m gonna pass out. Or throw up. Or both.”

Brad was staring at me, confused, and then seemed to snap out of it and jumped up, grabbing my glass of wine off the table.

“Here-”

I shook my head, leaning against the front door. “No, no, I think- I don’t think alcohol is a great-”

“What was that?” he asked.

I looked up and him and realized I had somehow avoided the whole foster care/adoption backstory.

“Um, I…I grew up in foster care, and got adopted when I was fifteen, and I’ve never really known my parents.”

“Okay…?”

“That was, apparently, my birth mom, and my dad is apparently dying.”

He put the wine glass down. “Yeah, let’s get you some water.”

“Thanks.”

I went back over to the couch, turning my phone over in my hands. Did I call Mom tonight, or wait until tomorrow?

I didn’t know how long my birth father had, I guess, so perhaps time was of the essence.

Brad came back over with a glass of water, and I took a sip as I dialled my mom’s number.

It rang twice before she answered.

“Hey, honey, how are you?”

“I’m-I’m-I’m a little confused. Did you give my birth parents my phone number?”

“Oh, gosh, Janie said she’d call you tomorrow, so I thought I’d get to talk to you about it first. I’m sorry, honey, you were supposed to hear about it from me.”

“It’s okay, I’m just…I didn’t know if that was legit or a-a scam of some kind.”

“No, no, we’ve- we got some information about your parents when we adopted you. Not a lot to go on, but enough that I know that that’s really your mom. Don’t worry, I quizzed her on your information.”

I wasn’t sure if that was comforting.

“Listen, Michelle, your dad and I love you, but it might be worth it to get to know them. God’s given you a chance to meet them before your dad passes, I think you’ll regret it if you don’t take it.”

I ignored the statement about God. No god had anything to do with this. This was a mixture of easily available personal information and bad luck.

“It’s just weird that they’re reaching out now, y’know? They had twenty five years to try to get to know me.”

“I know, honey. Do you want us to come into town for a weekend, just to spend some time with you?”

“No, no, that’s okay. I’ll be okay. I’m just…in shock. I probably just need to sleep.”

“Yes, sleep. You’ll feel better.”

“I love you. Say hi to Dad for me.”

“Of course. Would you like me to pray for your birth father?” she asked.

I hesitated. “Uh, let’s wait until I find out whether or not I like him, first.” It was mostly a joke.

She laughed. “Okay. I love you, Michelle, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

 _Click_.

I dropped my phone into my lap, and took another sip of water.

“Do you wanna stay over?” Brad asked. “It’s late, I don’t wanna send you home on your own.”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I think I just need to be alone. We’ll finish Hamilton some other time, right?”

He smiled. “Yeah, of course. I’ll walk you downstairs.”

“Thanks.”

I gathered my things and slipped on my coat (which was admittedly probably overkill for early-September but it was windy and windchill and I were not friends) and Brad and I headed out.

When we got into the elevator, he gave me a soft smile.

“Hey, come here.” He pulled me into a hug, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I didn’t really know what I was supposed to be sorry about, but I felt like I had to.

“It’s alright, we’ll make it up.”

He rubbed my back and kissed the top of my head.

I felt weirdly out of place.

**Peter**

Felicia was on top of me, had been all over me, everything was technically fine.

But I felt _gross_.

Maybe I was just disengaged. Or maybe it was the fact that I would rather it be MJ. But nothing about this was actually…fun.

I was just here because I felt like I should be.

Why was that?

Probably something patriarchal, I’d ask MJ for her thoughts later.

“Felicia-”

“Are you gonna cum on me?”

“I- no- can you-”

She leaned over and started kissing my neck. “I want you to cum all over-”

I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off of me.

“What are you doing?”

Shaking my head, I told her, “I’m leaving.”

She laughed, harshly, almost a bark. “Peter. Come on, stop teasing.”

I looked at her as I grabbed my clothes and started to dress. “I’m- this was a mistake.”

“Well, yeah, obviously, but you’re not gonna finish what you started?” she snapped.

“I’m not- my head’s not in it.”

“What kind of guy leaves in the middle of sex?”

It shocked me. I stared at her.

“You’re such a fucking loser.”

I had a few choice words for her, but I bit them back, and finished pulling my clothes on. “Have a good night, Felicia.”

“I can’t believe you.”

I gave up on biting back my few choice words. “Does my consent not matter to you?” I snapped.

Felicia looked at me, mouth agape, speechless.

“That’s what I figured.”

And I left.

**MJ**

The second I settled down in my apartment, I broke down in tears. I didn’t know if I was overwhelmed or panicking or grieving or angry, but I was crying, so I guess I was dealing with it somehow.

I reached for my phone and looked up my birth mom’s area code.

720.

Aurora, Colorado.

I found myself googling flights from NYC to Aurora.

And then checked my bank account.

And then called Liz.

It rang twice before she answered.

“Hey, MJ, is everything okay?”

I sniffled. “Um, I’m having a little bit of an identity crisis. My birth mom called me and my birth dad is dying and now I’m looking at flights to Aurora, Colorado, and I don’t know if I should do it or if I’m being impulsive or if it’s even worth it or if my boss will give me the time off-”

“Wait, wait, slow down. Are you still at Brad’s?”

“No, no, I came home.”

“Do you want me to come over? I’ll bring wine, or pizza, or ice cream- I don’t really know what this situation calls for.”

“It’s alright, I have ice cream in the freezer.”

“I’ll be over in five?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.”

 _Click_.

I unlocked my front door and got a glass of water, trying to calm myself down. Liz texted me a couple minutes later, and I buzzed her in. She was walking through my front door a few moments after.

“Okay, explain what’s going on, and then I’ll help you figure this out. Do you need a hug?”

I shook my head. “I’m- I’m okay. I’m just…confused. I mean, they’ve had 25 years to contact me, and the fact that my bio-mom only did because my bio-dad is dying…doesn’t sit right with me.”

Liz nodded. “That’s fair. Do you know if they had any other kids, or if they just…didn’t want kids in general?”

Taking another sip of water, I shrugged.

“Hm.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. My m- adoptive mom told me I’d regret it if I didn’t, which is probably right, because I overthink like nobody’s business. But what if I meet them and I don’t like them?”

She shrugged. “You don’t have to stay in contact with them. They contributed to your existence, but they haven’t done anything else for you.”

“But they’re still my parents, right? They said they were too young and couldn’t afford to keep me, really they gave me up to give me a better life.”

“Well, I mean, yeah, technically,” Liz said, “but they also never kept in contact with you, which is definitely an option with adoption. They never put aside money for you, either, did they?”

“Not that I know of.”

She leaned against my kitchen counter. “You can look at it anyway you’d like to, MJ, that’s up to you. And what you do with the information you have is up to you. But I do think that this whole thing is a large part of you, and that’s changing whether you like it or not. Either you don’t go, you never get to know your dad, and nothing changes except your knowledge that you never did meet him, or you do go, and you’re either disappointed or find a loving family.”

I laughed dryly. “My options look great.”

“Yeah, it’s shitty. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“Do you want me to help you book flights?”

I sighed. “I gotta ask my boss for time off, first.”

“Okay, so let’s do that.”

I texted my boss, and explained the situation, and apologized for the last minute nature, and asked if we could run a “best of” column for a week while I go meet my parents.

And then Liz and I sat on my couch, sharing a pint of ice cream, staring at my phone on the coffee table while waiting for a response.

“You know,” she said, “it’s late. He’s probably asleep. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

And then my phone screen lit up. I snatched my phone off the table and checked.

_Betty: hey is the staff meeting on Monday or Wednesday. He said Monday but said the 9 th_

_Me: it’s on Monday, that’s when the lunch catering is booked for_

_Betty: sweet thank you :))_

“It was Betty,” I told Liz, setting my phone back down and picking my spoon back up.

“Oh, I was supposed to text her back about double date plans for next weekend.”

I frowned. “I didn’t know you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not, that’s the problem. She wants to set me up with someone but won’t tell me who.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“Probably not. I don’t really feel like awkwardly sitting there with someone I don’t know while Ned and Betty are all cutesy and gross.”

“Fair. Or you could take Peter or Harry-”

My phone buzzed again, and I grabbed it.

_JJJ: Yeah fine. Do you want to use your PTO or vacation time?_

_Me: Vacation time. Thank you so much._

_JJJ: Prep the columns and submit them before you leave. Let me know when you’re leaving and returning. You have two weeks of vacation left for the year, and then it goes into your 5 days of PTO._

_Me: Okay._

Liz looked at the texts as I typed out my last response. “He’s kinda harsh, I can see why Betty doesn’t like him.”

I shrugged. “It pays the bills.”

“I guess.”

“Alright, well, I’ll find you flights, you prep columns,” she said, pulling out her phone.

“Deal.”

I went into my room to grab my laptop, and the two of us got to work.

I pulled up the 5 columns from the last year that performed the best on the website, and wrote a little blurb at the top explaining we were doing a highlight reel for a week. Liz found me flights under $200 that weren’t insanely long or at gross times.

I texted my mom- adoptive mom- and confirmed that they lived in Colorado. And then I booked.


	11. meet the joneses

**Peter**

_Me: hey is everything good?_

_MJ: I can’t talk rn I’m sorry_

_MJ: I’ll be back in a couple days_

_MJ: I’ll catch you up then_

_Me: okay_

_Me: I just wanted to make sure you were okay_

_MJ: thanks tiger :)_

I let my phone fall onto my chest.

It had started to cool off, and despite it just being a little breezy and cloudy outside, the apartment was way colder. The AC from the summer still hadn’t been turned off. I had a thick hoodie on, but a part of me did want to curl up under my covers and lay there until Monday.

Liz was out with Betty. Harry was out with Flash. I was alone in the apartment, wallowing in self-pity.

I picked my phone back up, and scrolled through Instagram for a bit, but all that came up was memes I’d already seen on Twitter. So I opened Twitter, but it was just worse and worse news in the Trending tab, and the same viral tweets I’d just decided made Instagram too boring tonight. I opened Snapchat, but none of my friends had updated their stories, and I had no notifications.

I was already groaning internally as I opened Tinder and started swiping. _Left, left, left, left, left, left, left…_

I closed the app. Nobody was MJ.

_Yeah, dumbass, obviously. That’s how people work._

I reopened the app, and tried again.

Cindy popped up. She was nice, but I didn’t know if it was weird to match with someone you’ve already hooked up with. _Left_.

Amanda, 24. She was cute, but her top Spotify artists were R Kelly and Keith Urban, which felt like a red flag. _Left_.

Elle, 27, drug dealer. Her first photo was a photo of her in a pharmacy, lab coat clad, smiling. Legal drug dealer, funny. I kept swiping through her photos, and she was cute, so I read her bio.

“My boyfriend and I are looking for a third ;)”

 _Left_.

Gwen, 26, science teacher. She was cute. Short blonde hair, big eyes, pretty smile. Her photos ranged from bar photos, to hiking photos, to pool photos, to a photo of her in a classroom.

Her bio just said, “swipe the opposite way of your political beliefs.”

Yes ma’am.

 _Right_.

Wendy, 23, law student. All her photos were with friends and at bars. _Left_.

Eliza, 25, interior designer. All her photos were of her smoking. _Left_.

Roza, 25, PhD candidate. Her second photo was with a baby. I checked her bio. The kid was hers. _Left_. Nothing against single moms, I just didn’t want to be a step dad.

And then I got a message notification.

_Gwen: okay, lab tech + science teacher. this seems like a good match._

_Me: this is gonna be cheesy, fair warning_

_Me: but I do specialize in chemistry_

_Gwen: super cheesy_

_Gwen: you’re lucky I’m not lactose intolerant_

_Gwen: what are you up to tonight?_

_Me: um not a lot_

_Me: my building still hasn’t turned the ac from the summer off so I’m mostly just trying to stay warm_

_Gwen: do you need some help staying warm?_

How did I always manage to swipe right on the boldest girls?

Not that I was complaining.

It was nice to feel wanted.

_Me: are you gonna help me trigger an exothermic reaction, or were you suggesting huddling for warmth?_

_Gwen: something closer to the latter lol_

I sent her my address, and she said she’d be over soon.

I checked her profile, and it said she was 5 miles away.

That was a pretty quick Uber over, so I got up and brushed my teeth (not that I hadn’t brushed my teeth today, I just figured my lunch of a bag of sour cream and onion chips wasn’t going to make for great breath), and changed out of the jeans and hoodie into a t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Girls liked grey sweatpants, according to Harry.

Did I pour drinks? Did I just…sit and wait? What do you do while waiting for a probable hook up to arrive?

Apparently, my solution was to sit on my bed and stare at the wall for a few minutes before Gwen got to the building. I buzzed her in, and waited for the knock at my door.

I opened the door, and she smiled. Her eyes were just as big and sparkly in person.

“Hey.”

I smiled back. “Hey. Um, come in. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure. Do you have any wine?”

“Coming right up.” I wondered if she could hear the shake in my voice. Why was I so nervous? I went to the kitchen and pulled out glasses.

She giggled lightly, as she stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind her. “Do you have roommates?” she asked. I was trying to pick a decent bottle of wine with absolutely no knowledge of wine, but looked up. I must’ve looked at her weird, because she continued, “Oh, just…a lot of doors. Bedrooms.”

“Yeah, two.” I pointed at their doors. “They’re out tonight.”

“Without you?” She raised an eyebrow at me as I poured our glasses.

I shrugged. “One is out with a work friend, one is out with a guy from our high school that I never really got along with. Figured I’d rather stay in tonight.” I handed her a glass, and then clinked mine gently against hers and took a sip.

She smiled before taking a sip, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Did you wanna watch some Netflix?” she asked. “There’s a new Anne Hathaway movie out.”

“Oh, sure,” I said. “Uh, here, take a seat.”

We settled in on the couch. I turned on the TV and pulled up Netflix as she made herself comfortable, tucking her legs under herself. I turned on the movie, and we started to watch.

Well, she did. I was hyperaware of her.

Because, honestly, she was really pretty. And I wanted to kiss her. Not the way I wanted to kiss Felicia, or Cindy, but closer to the way I wanted to kiss MJ.

About ten minutes in, she asked me for a refill. I brought the bottle over, and we each had another glass.

Wine wasn’t strong enough to override my anxiety, but it was strong enough that she started to shift closer to me on the couch, until our arms were pressed against each other.

Eventually, about halfway through the movie, she cleared her throat.

“Do you want some water?” I offered, already shifting to get off the couch.

“No, no, I’m just waiting for you to make a move on me.”

I did a double take. “What?”

She stared at me, dead in the eyes. “I did not Uber my ass over here on a Friday night to not get at least kissed by a cute boy.”

Now, we don’t have time to unpack all the ways my heart skipped, fluttered, somersaulted, etc etc etc at the thought of her considering me cute.

My brain short circuited, and I stared at her for a second before I gently (read: anxiously) cupped her face and kissed her.

She froze for a second, I think shocked that I’d followed through on her request, and then leaned into the kiss. One hand went to the back of my neck, the other fell against my chest. She could undoubtedly feel my heart beating a mile a minute under her fingertips, and I didn’t even care.

We broke away for a second, and then before I could say anything, she kissed me again, more insistent this time. Her hand against my chest bunched the fabric of my shirt, and she made the softest little moan-y sound.

I can’t tell you how the movie ended.

**MJ**

I landed at the Denver Airport, and took a taxi out to Aurora, texting my birth mom once I was in the car.

_Me: hey I landed, I’ll be there soon_

_Janie: KK._

I was going to have to get used to that texting style.

My anxiety began to mount as I sat in the back of the car, so I scrolled through my phone to distract myself.

_Brad: did you get in okay?_

_Me: yeah I’m just in the taxi_

_Brad: how was the flight?_

_Me: it was good, nothing special_

_Me: I’m tired_

_Brad: :(_

_Brad: how long are you there?_

_Me: five days_

_Brad: what am I gonna do without my beautiful girlfriend for five days?_

I had to blink and reread that. Had we had the boyfriend-girlfriend talk?

I didn’t care a whole lot, it was just weird that he threw that out there before asking me to be his girlfriend or something.

Maybe that just wasn’t a thing after high school, how would I know?

_Me: I’m sure you’ll live_

_Me: lets just hope my birth family aren’t republicans_

_Brad: haha_

Well, it distracted me from my birth parent anxieties to have the girlfriend thing come up like that.

Did I bring that up with him?

I mean, it took the awkwardness out of it. If he’d asked, I would’ve said yes. Was it worth it to make it weird by confronting him about it?

Probably not.

I liked Brad. He made me feel good about myself, and was kind and sweet, and we had a lot in common, and I enjoyed the time I spent with him.

The idea of him being my boyfriend was actually…really nice.

Why make it more complicated than it needs to be?

The taxi pulled up to my birth parent’s house.

Shit. No more time to change my mind and fly home.

Especially since I could see a woman in the window, hands wrapped around a mug and shoulders draped in a shawl or blanket or something.

I paid the driver, and got out, pulling my suitcase out of the trunk, before walking up to the front door.

The woman left her spot in front of the window and opened the door before I could knock.

“Michelle.”

I forced a half-smile. “That’s me.”

She grabbed me and pulled me into a hug so quickly it knocked the breath out of me. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home.”

Tentatively, I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She squeezed me a little tighter for a moment, and then released, smiling at me.

“Come in, let’s get you settled.”

She pulled me into the house. And, dead lord, it was huge. Maybe I was just New York trash, but I swore the square footage of the foyer outdid my entire apartment.

She walked me upstairs, and showed me down the hall to a bedroom.

“I’ll give you a moment to get yourself sorted. I’ll be in the kitchen getting dinner ready, and your dad and siblings will be home soon.”

“Sorry,” I said, “siblings?”

Janie’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shoot, I didn’t tell you. Um, the twins, Rhea and Marcelle are seventeen. That’s their bedroom,” she said, pointing to the door behind her. “And your brother, Mattaniah, is nineteen. His is the room next to yours.”

I didn’t ask why the girls had to share a room when there was a perfectly good bedroom right here.

“I know it’s a lot to digest.” She offered me a small smile, even though it was obvious she was hurt by my lack of reaction. “I’ll leave you be until dinner.” She turned and walked down the hallway, disappearing around the corner before the stairs.

God, this house was big.

I unpacked, admittedly slowly because I kept getting distracted by the memes Liz was sending me on Instagram. And then I finally flopped back on the bed and tried to just…breathe.

This was so fucking weird.

I had three siblings. Full-blood siblings. And I knew nothing about them. I didn’t know their middle names, or birthdays, or interests, or _faces_.

And they knew nothing about me. 


	12. i'll take "manipulation" for 500, alex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hasn't been beta read so i'm sorry if there's any errors!  
> also, there's some manipulation, guilt tripping, and religious mentions in this chapter, and if any of that is content that makes you uncomfortable or triggers you, please take appropriate precautions (and message me if you want the tl;dr on the chapter)

**MJ**

I came downstairs for dinner, which felt…strange, to say the least. The last time I had a family dinner around the table was when I was 21. My parents have since given up on Thanksgiving and Christmas. None of us enjoy the clean-up.

My little sisters were identical, save for completely different styles. Rhea walked in wearing what I can only describe as business casual, whereas Marcelle was wearing head-to-toe sweats, something Janie clearly disliked. My brother, Mattaniah (Janie had to call him Mattaniah, no abbreviations for her) looked like the typical popular jock. He was wearing a jersey and ripped black jeans when he got home from the library, and changed into grey sweats and a white t-shirt.

My dad, Darren, had come home from a day of radiation, and picked up the twins on the way home. He looked pale, sunken, and too thin.

I sat down between Marcelle and Janie’s seat. My siblings and father all seemed very stiff around me. Janie was the only one who was acting like this whole thing was normal.

“Darren, would you like a glass of wine?” she asked, while dishing out food onto everyone’s plates.

He shook his head. “It makes me feel nauseous.”

“Right.”

He glanced between me and Janie. “Michelle, would you like a glass?”

As I opened my mouth to say yes, Janie spoke over me. “No, no, we’re not giving wine to the kids.”

“I’m twenty-five,” I reminded her.

She waved me off, and finished plating Darren’s food.

Not worth it.

She ended up pouring me a glass of water.

Once she was sitting, she looked at me. “Do you say grace before you eat?” she asked.

“I’m, um, I’m not religious.”

She blinked. “You don’t go to church or say grace or anything?”

I shook my head.

“Mom, just leave it alone,” Mattaniah muttered.

Janie sighed. “Why don’t you lead us through grace then, Mattaniah?”

The way he looked at Rhea and Marcelle suggested maybe he also wasn’t fond of religion.

But he nodded.

Everyone joined hands, and I already felt awkward and out of place, so I let Marcelle and Janie take my hands.

Mattaniah took a breath, and Janie interrupted.

“Sorry, Michelle, I’m just confused. I thought your adoptive parents were Christians?”

I felt like a deer in the headlights.

“They are.”

“And they never took you to church?”

“They did.”

“So why aren’t you religious?”

I shrugged. “It just wasn’t for me.”

I left out the part about organized religion being really fucked up and kind of cult-y.

Janie chuckled to herself. “Jesus isn’t for you.”

Mattaniah looked increasingly uncomfortable. “Mom, can we please-”

“Sure, honey, go right ahead.”

He hesitated, and then took in a breath and started. “Thank you, Lord, for the meal we are about to enjoy. Thank you for our health, for our wealth, and for our big sister’s safe travels here tonight. Amen.”

“Amen,” the others chorused.

“Amen,” I repeated to myself, quietly, feeling ten years younger.

I started to dig into the meal. It was steak, rice, and some roasted veggies.

After years of living with white parents, it was admittedly very good to eat veggies that had been roasted with spices.

“So, Mattaniah, did you get your project done?” Janie asked.

He shook his head. “No, not yet. I just have the last couple of slides, and my classmate is going to proofread my slides-”

“I’m sorry, you spent the whole day at the library and you’re not done yet?”

The twins exchanged glances.

“N-no.”

“When I was your age, I worked my ass off to get my homework done on time because I knew my parents were paying an arm and a leg for my education.”

Guilt trip much?

“It’ll be done on time, it’s not due until next week.”

She scoffed to herself and took a sip of her wine.

Darren looked at me. “So, Michelle, what do you do?”

“Like, for work?”

He nodded, taking a bite of steak.

“I write for a newspaper. It’s called the _Daily Bugle_.”

Rhea perked up. “That’s cool, what do you do there?”

Oh, god, I couldn’t tell the truth. _I actually give people sex advice in a daily column_. Janie would go nuts.

“It depends on the week. Usually local stories. New York is kind of a hub of weird activity-”

“Like Spider-Man?” Marcelle was kind of smiling.

Janie gave this condescending hum. “Forgive her, she thinks Spider-Man is a good guy.”

I frowned. “I’ve actually run the numbers. The areas Spider-Man frequents have much lower crime rates now than they did ten years ago.”

“He’s a vigilante.”

“Well, the cops aren’t exactly protecting people right now. Especially people that look like us,” I countered.

My siblings looked between each other, the same way you do when your friend gets called down to the principal’s office.

Janie had her chin held high. “I just don’t think that kind of behaviour should be encouraged.”

“It isn’t. My boss is very much against Spider-Man. I’ve had to sell my pieces about Spider-Man to other publications because the _Bugle_ has a very anti-superhero message.”

“Maybe you should listen to your boss.”

I bit my tongue and took a sip of water, before turning to Mattaniah. “So, what are you studying right now?”

“Psychology,” he answered, the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you planning on going into clinical psychology I asked?”

He shook his head. “Med school. But I think it’s interesting, so I might specialize in psychiatry.”

Darren chuckled. “This kid’s education almost costs more than my medical bills.”

The guilt trip counter was at two.

Mattaniah laughed awkwardly.

“Um, so you two must be in your senior year,” I said to the twins.

They nodded in unison.

“Have you picked out colleges yet?”

“They’ll go to the University of Colorado, like Mattaniah,” Darren said.

“It’s too expensive to go out-of-state,” Janie added, “especially now.”

Darren sank a little in his seat, and took another bite of his steak.

I opened my mouth to protest, to mention loans or grants or scholarships, but Marcelle shook her head.

The rest of dinner was tense.

After dinner, the twins were told to go upstairs and study. Darren was tired, so Janie helped him upstairs, telling Mattaniah to clean the dining table and kitchen.

“Here,” I said, starting to grab dishes, “I’ll help you out.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” he responded. “You’re a guest.”

I waved him off. “I’m not going to leave you to clean up everything.”

“Thank you.”

I helped him carry the dishes to the kitchen, and then I rinsed while he loaded the dishwasher.

“Are, um, are they always like that?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yep. Dad’s usually more involved in the conversation, but the cancer treatment has really sucked the energy out of him.”

“And you guys always sit down for dinner?”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t know what to say. I knew all the weird, manipulative tricks Janie and Darren had used, I’d learned from years of foster care to recognize them, but he and the twins clearly didn’t know how weird the situation was.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” I answered.

“When did you stop going to church?”

 _Called it._ “Um, well, when my parents adopted me, they realized I’d seen some shit in foster care, so they figured church would give me a sense of community and acceptance. And I never really believed in a god, and they knew that the whole time, but I went anyways because it was a little family routine, and I hadn’t had that. They took me with them until I got my driver’s license, and then I was allowed to just, like, drop them off at church, and do my own thing until the service was over, and then I’d pick them back up and we’d go home.”

“So they never forced the religion on you?”

I shook my head.

He snorted. “That’s gotta be nice.”

“I got lucky with the adoptive parents.”

There were a few more moments of silence, before he asked, “When did you move out of your parent’s place?”

“I was twenty. Um, I graduated early, and kind of took a fast track through my degree, and landed a job that paid well enough. So after a couple months, I had enough in savings, and I moved into the city.”

“Did your parents mind?”

I snorted. “No. Not at all. I mean, I lived like twenty minutes from home, at first, and then moved further into the city about a year and a half ago. And I make time for them, and see them on holidays, so they don’t care.”

“Mom and Dad won’t let me move out.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue.

“Obviously I’m grateful, because school is expensive as hell, but an eight o’clock curfew is starting to get on my nerves.”

“Eight o’clock?” I repeated.

He nodded, lips pressed in a tight line. “They told me that if I’m out after curfew, they’ll assume I’ve done every drug in the book and stop paying for school.”

“Well, that’s not great.”

“And if I move out before I’m done school, they’ll cut me out of the inheritance.”

I frowned.

He shook his head. “At this point, I don’t even care about the money. I’m just tired of the way they treat us.” He froze and looked at me. “Sorry, I don’t mean to ruin this whole…reconnecting with your family thing for you.”

Shaking my head, I smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t have high hopes for the people that left me in foster care.”

He stifled a laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

I washed out the sink while he put the soap in the dishwasher and set it.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

_Miles: jones wya_

_Miles: haven’t heard from you in like three days_

Oops.

_Me: all is well_

_Me: visiting my bio parents_

_Miles: I’m sorry WHAT_

_Miles: since when do you know who they are_

_Incoming call from Miles Morales_

“Shit, hold on,” I told Mattaniah. I answered the phone. “Hi.”

“Were you planning on telling me you found your birth parents? I was damn close to filing a missing persons report!”

I winced. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been kind of overwhelmed-”

Mattaniah was stifling laughter. I whipped him with the tea towel sitting on the counter.

“Overwhelmed? Where are you, I’m driving out there and whooping your ass-”

“Colorado.”

He paused. _Oh, god._

_“Colorado?”_

“Ye-”

“Jones, tell me you did not fly to a whole ass other state for your birth parents-”

“My dad’s dying.”

“-because I will- he’s what?”

“He’s got cancer. It’s terminal.”

He fell silent for a moment. “I’m so sorry, MJ.”

“It’s alright, I’ll catch you up on everything later, okay? I just- I gotta go.”

“Yeah, yeah, no, for sure, take your time. Just turn your location on next time you skip town without telling me.”

I snorted. “Okay. I’m sorry. Bye.”

“Goodnight.”

I hung up.

Mattaniah wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Was that your _boyfriend?_ ”

“No, it was my friend. I told my boyfriend before I left.”

He gasped, hand going to his neck as though he was clutching his pearls. “Oh my word! My big sister is a sinner!”

I laughed, and so did he for a moment, before the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted us.

“Oh, wow, the kitchen is actually clean,” Janie remarked, looking around. “Michelle, did you help?”

I lied and shook my head. “All him.”

She narrowed her eyes at us, but let it go. “Mattaniah, do you wanna show Michelle the movie room downstairs? Maybe you four can watch a movie tonight.”

He seemed shocked, but nodded. “Yeah, yeah, for sure.”

“Michelle, I trust you’ll make sure whatever they choose is appropriate for kids?”

I blinked. _Kids?_ “Yeah, of course.”

I followed Mattaniah upstairs, and we knocked on the twin’s door.

“Hey, we’re watching a movie.”

Rhea frowned. “Right now.”

“Yes, right now.”

Marcelle closed her laptop. “Fine by me. Michelle, are you picking the movie? Matt has terrible taste.”

I nodded. “Sure.”

They looked at each other, and then nodded and got up, following us back downstairs. Well, they followed Mattaniah – or Matt, since I guess that was acceptable.. I tailed behind.

“Marcy, can you make popcorn?” Matt requested.

She scowled at him. “Why can’t you?”

“Michelle and I just cleaned the kitchen, and I’m supposed to show her where the movie room is.”

Rhea looked back at me, rolling her eyes. I shrugged.

“Fine,” Marcelle snapped.

“Want me to run across to the 7/11 for slushies?” Rhea offered, looking directly at me.

They were all looking at me for approval.

Oh, no, I was not prepared to be a role model.

“Um, is y- our mom okay with it?” I asked.

“We’re allowed if we haven’t had dessert.” Rhea looked pretty convincing, so I nodded.

“Sure. Blue raspberry for me.”

She smiled and nodded. “Orange and Sprite, right?” she asked, looking at Matt and Marcy in turn. They both nodded, so she headed off to the foyer.

Part of me instinctually wanted to follow her, but we were in the suburbs and the sun hadn’t set, she was fine.

Marcy stayed in the kitchen, pulling out a box of microwave popcorn, and Matt led me downstairs.

“So, we have a storage room down here, that’s where our bikes go in the winter, and where all of our luggage and stuff is. And there’s the home gym,” he said, pointing off to the side at a door. “And that’s the boiler room. That’s Dad’s home office, but Mom wants to convert it to a yoga slash mediation space.”

I frowned. “But there’s a home gym.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I don’t know. Anyways, these two doors are the movie room.”

I reached out and pushed them open, and they revealed a decent home theatre. Eight recliner seats, a bar in the corner, a big ass TV and sleek media console beneath it.

“One perk of still living with them,” Matt joked, walking in and going straight to the console. He opened the cupboard and grabbed a remote and turned on the TV. “What do you wanna watch?”

I had not thought that far ahead. “Um, you can pick. Just, y’know, nothing that’ll get us all in trouble.”

“Alright.”

I sat down in a seat and scrolled through my phone. He queued up a Netflix movie, and we waited for the girls to come back downstairs. Marcy was first, carrying four steaming bags of popcorn, handing them off to Matt and I. Rhea came in a few moments later, with a tray of slushies, and handed me mine first, then gave Matt and Marcy theirs before settling into a seat.

“Aw, you’re not gonna make us watch _The Hitman’s Bodyguard_ again, right?”

I looked up. “That’s not PG-13.”

Rhea shrugged. “Mom never comes to check. We’ll just tell her we watched _Charlotte’s Web_ again.”

I didn’t wanna be a buzzkill, so I let it slide.

“Let Michelle pick the movie,” Marcelle said, grabbing the remote from Matt.

“She said I could pick!”

“I don’t wanna watch the same movie for the millionth time.” She handed me the remote. “Go ahead.”

I scrolled through the list of movies on Netflix, and then picked out one I’d seen once but enjoyed. _In the Shadow of the Moon_.

It was rated PG, so I hit play.

\---

After the movie, the three of them were off to bed, leaving electronics on the floor outside their rooms.

Y’know, despite the fact one of them was a legal adult, and the other two were months away from being adults.

I went downstairs to get a glass of water before bed, and Janie was sitting at the dining table with a book.

“How was the movie?” she asked. “I heard they made you sit through _Charlotte’s Web_.”

I nodded. “It was good.”

“I don’t know what it is with those three and that movie. Well, that one and _Tangled_.”

It was clear she had never even looked at the Netflix account. “I have a couple movies that I watch when I’ve had, like, a long day. It’s easier to watch something you know than something new sometimes.”

She snorted, but didn’t say anything.

I filled a glass, and took a sip.

“Oh, by the way, I was hoping you’d put your phone and such on the floor outside your room. Just to set an example.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. She was crossing a line.

“Oh, come now, Michelle, don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not putting my phone outside my room. I’m an adult.”

She looked at me and closed the book. “I’m your mother.”

I frowned. “You gave me fifty percent of your genetics, gave birth to me, and then abandoned me to a toxic and abusive system.”

“I did what I had to do-”

“Yes, and in doing so, you surrendered your parental rights to me. It’s not your name on my birth certificate.”

She sighed. “Please just put them outside. I’m trying to show the kids that I’m not insane for-”

“Matt is an adult. He is a nineteen year old, and you give him an eight o’clock curfew and make him put his phone on the ground outside his room. Rhea and Marcelle are a few months away from being adults, too. What do you think that accomplishes?” I snapped. “It’s been proven over and over and over again in studies that when you parent too strictly, the outcomes are negative. You have to give them some free reign and independence.”

She looked angry for a moment, and then it melted, giving way to a look of hurt. “You think I’m some controlling monster.”

Guilt trip number three.

“I didn’t say that. But you’re not parenting me.”

“Do you need your phone at night that badly?” she accused.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself so I wouldn’t yell at her. “My phone, the one I bought and pay the plan on, is the main way my friends, family, and co-workers contact me. If there is an emergency in the middle of the night, I would want to know about it.”

She shook her head. “Alright, fine. I don’t know how you became so stubborn, it’s certainly not a genetic thing I gave you.”

The lack of insight was almost laughable.

“Goodnight,” I told her.

She didn’t respond. I went up to bed.

\---

I was awoken in the morning by shouting in the hallway.

“-sick of you treating me like a child!”

“Mattaniah Theo-Renatus Jones, you are on thin ice. You watch your tone with me.”

“Or what?”

“Or else you can pay for college yourself!”

I checked my phone. It was seven in the morning. _Why was everyone yelling so early?_

“You’re gonna threaten taking away my tuition money because my phone went off and woke you up?”

_Ah. That’s why._

“There are rules in this house and it’s clear to me that you don’t respect-”

“It went off on it’s own! I had nothing to do with that! I didn’t break a single rule!”

“Then why are you so defensive?”

“Because you’re attacking me!”

I got up and rubbed my eyes. I couldn’t leave the poor kid to fend for himself.

“Don’t accuse me of attacking you when you’re the one who broke a rule-”

I started a voice recording on my phone and tapped my finger against the mic a couple times to make sure it could hear.

“But I didn’t-”

I put my phone in the pocket of my shorts, concealing the screen so she wouldn’t know it was recording.

“Don’t interrupt me!”

I opened my door and stared at my birth mother.

“Go back to bed, Michelle, this is none of your business.”

“No, it is, Janie. You signed away your parental rights, but that doesn’t change the fact that Matt is my brother.”

“You’re cherry picking.”

“Sure. We can talk about that later. First, I wanna talk about what happened last night. Matt, did your phone go off?”

“Yeah, my college sent off a mass email at, like, six, and Mom heard my phone go off.”

“And what’s the specific rule?” I asked, turning to Janie.

“They’re not supposed to use any electronics from ten at night until seven thirty. And they have to be outside their room after ten and until seven thirty.”

“Why?”

Janie glared at me.

“I’m asking because I want to know the reasoning on both sides.”

“Because I don’t want them to stay up all night on their phones or laptops or whatever on social media.”

“Okay. Was Matt’s phone still outside his room when it went off?”

She crossed her arms. Matt nodded.

“So it was,” I confirmed.

“Yes, it was outside his room by the time I got here.”

“From ten feet down the hall,” Matt said.

“Don’t you-”

“I was still asleep!”

“Okay!” I interrupted. “And what’s the punishment for breaking the rule?”

Matt stared at her. “She threatened to take away my tuition money.”

“You have shown a clear disrespect for my rules, young man. If you think you’re getting anything from me with that attitude, you’re going to be sorely mistaken.”

“Wait,” I said. “Is that a punishment you made clear when you made the rule about the phones?”

Matt shook his head. Janie huffed. “No.”

“So-”

“But it’s my money,” Janie argued. “I have housed and fed and clothes him for nineteen years, and paid for his education out of the kindness of my heart, but if he doesn’t respect me he can leave!”

“Nobody said I don’t respect you, Mom, but-”

“If you talk back to me one more time I’m cutting you out of the will, too.”

Matt’s whole body slumped a little in defeat.

“Why don’t we take a break from this conversation?” I suggested. “We all just need to sit down and take a breath and cool off a little.”

Janie rolled her eyes, but walked away.

Matt let out a breath. “I’m sorry we woke you up.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and stopped the recording. “I got the whole thing on tape.”

His eyes went wide. “Holy shit, Michelle,” he breathed.

I made sure to duplicate it, and sent a copy to my email. “Just to be sure she can’t claim she never said anything.”

He nodded.

“Where’s your phone?” I asked.

“She took it.”

“Who paid for it?”

“Um, she transferred me the money and I bought it.”

“Did she do that for your laptop and stuff too?”

He nodded.

“And for Rhea and Marcy?”

He nodded again.

“Can you prove it?”

He hesitated. “Um, the receipts got emailed to us. And we all have debit cards in our names.”

“Make sure you print off documentation of that, okay? All of it. If you’re not sure, print it anyways. Make two copies, and keep one on you and give me one. I’m gonna make a call.”

“Okay.”

I went back into my room and sat down on my bed, and dialled Liz’s number.

She picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Em, what’s up? I just got to work-”

“It’s actually about your work. I have a legal question for you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“How do you determine legal ownership of an item?”

She hesitated. “Do you mean, like, a house or car, or…?”

“For, like, a phone or laptop.”

“Um, whoever’s name was on the purchase. Like their card or whatever.”

“Okay, okay, that’s what I thought. What are the laws around, like, inheritance money or education funds?”

There was a pause. “Do you wanna tell me what this is about?”

“It’s- it’s complicated.”

“Is everything okay over there?”

“No, Liz, it’s not, but I’ll tell you when I have more time.”

“Sure, okay, um. In most states, 30% of an inheritance must go to a spouse, if there’s a surviving spouse. Minor children have to be included, but the actual percentage varies from state to state. Adult children can be disinherited.”

“Okay, is someone who’s terminal and undergoing radiation therapy considered mentally sound enough to change a will?”

“I-I don’t know, it depends. Is everything alright?”

“I’m trying to figure out a way to get my siblings out of here with minimal damage.”

“MJ, can you afford to do that?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“I- okay, I gotta go, I have a meeting. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure. See you.”

 _Click_.

\---

Janie left about half an hour later, taking Darren to the hospital for radiation therapy, and Matt drove the twins to school. I stayed at the house, taking pictures of every single document Matt had given me and emailing them to myself to make sure I had a record.

When Matt got back, he dropped his keys on the kitchen table.

“What’s the plan?” he asked, running his hands through his hair, tense.

I sighed. “Well, there’s a couple of options. I could take you guys back to New York. It’d be a little complicated, but if you and I file for guardianship of Rhea and Marcy, we could do it. I have a one bedroom apartment, so it’d be a little cramped, but we’ll figure it out.”

He nodded. “Alright. I’ll call the girls.”


	13. back in town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter wasn't beta read, pls excuse any errors!

**Peter**

When I woke up, Gwen was still laying next to me. I don’t know why I was surprised, she had been almost every morning this week.

I rolled over and checked my phone.

_MJ: hey_

For a second, I thought I was still dreaming. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, and checked again. The text was still there.

_Me: hey, it’s good to hear from you_

_MJ: I’m sorry I was MIA all week_

_MJ: can we catch up later?_

_Me: yeah, I can come over after patrolling_

_MJ: um idk if that’s the best idea_

_MJ: text me when you’re home and I’ll come over there_

That wasn’t like her, but she’d probably explain why later.

_Me: okay_

_MJ: are liz and harry home tonight too?_

_Me: yeah_

_MJ: okay good_

_MJ: I’ll see you tonight_

Honestly, I was surprised she was already up. MJ wasn’t necessarily one to sleep in late, but I also didn’t know her to be up at dawn.

Gwen’s phone went off, and she stirred, reaching over for her phone to turn off her alarm.

“Morning,” I said softly.

She chuckled. “Good morning.” She yawned and stretched. “Alright, it’s Friday, I can get through one more day of teaching genetics.”

I watched as she got up, still wearing my t-shirt from last night, and pulled a change of clothes out of her backpack.

“Are you free for drinks tonight?” she asked.

I shook my head. “I’ve got plans with a friend.”

She narrowed her eyes at me playfully as she pulled on her clothes. “Lame.”

“Hey, you’ve monopolized my evenings all week.”

“Mm, I’m pretty sure you enjoyed yourself.”

I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and she laughed.

“It’s fine, Peter. Just let me know when you’re free. I owe you for pizza.”

“You don’t-”

She shushed me, in a very teacher-y voice. “I owe you. I’ll see you later.”

“You sure you don’t want coffee or anything?”

She shook her head. “I’ve gotta head home and get ready for work.”

“Alright,” I said, getting out of bed. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Gwen smiled a little, eyes crinkling at the corner, and she let me open my door for her.

Luckily, Liz and Harry weren’t out of their rooms yet to make faces at me while I tried not to embarrass myself.

I led her to the front door, and opened it for her. “Have a good day.”

She grabbed my face and kissed me, lingering just a moment longer than would qualify for a peck goodbye. “Yeah, you too.”

And then she was off down the hallway, and I closed the door, turning around as I did.

“That was cute,” Harry remarked, suddenly sitting on the couch.

“Adorable,” Liz agreed.

I jumped. “Jesus.”

They laughed.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear us.” Liz pulled my favourite mug out of the cupboard. “Coffee?”

I nodded. “I was distracted.”

“Clearly.” Harry looked me up and down, and I realized I was still wearing my boxers and nothing else.

I excused myself to my bedroom to get changed.

\---

As I was sitting on top of an office building about ten minutes from home, my heads-up display lit up.

“Incoming call from Liz,” Karen alerted me.

“Pick up,” I said.

There was a soft click as Karen answered the call for me.

“Hey,” Liz said, “MJ just texted to ask if you’re gonna be home soon.”

“Oh, yeah, I can head home now.”

“She said not to hurry if there’s a lot of activity tonight.”

“No, no, it’s pretty dead. I’ll be right home.”

“Alright, I’ll let her know to head over.”

I stood up, checking my web cartridges. Mostly full. “Can you make sure the living room window is unlocked?”

“Yep. See you in a sec.”

“See you.”

She hung up, and I started to swing home.

It was windy and kind of cold, but it was too short of a distance for me to bother telling Karen to turn on the heating system.

I got home, and Karen scanned the area before giving me the all-clear to climb in through the window into the apartment.

When I got in, MJ was already leaning against the kitchen counter, wine glass in hand, and Liz was sitting cross-legged on the island.

There was just a little bit of golden light falling into the apartment, and illuminated MJ’s face.

_Of course I see her for the first time in, like, a week and a half and she’s glowing._

She looked over as I climbed in and shut the window behind me, and her eyes smiled before her lips.

“Hey.” I pulled off my mask. “Give me, like, two seconds to change?”

She nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.”

I went into my room and changed out of the suit and into sweatpants, and then headed back out. MJ handed me a glass of water before I could say anything.

“I know you’re dehydrated, Peter, just take it.”

I scowled, but took it and drank.

“Alright,” Liz said, “Peter’s here, you have to spill.”

MJ seemed to shrink a little. “Shouldn’t we wait for Harry?”

I frowned. “Where’s Harry?”

“I’m in here!” he called from his bedroom. The door opened, and he hopped out on one foot, still pulling pants on. “I got home, like, five minutes before you and had to shower.”

Before I could ask, Liz said, “You don’t wanna know.” She turned back to MJ. “Okay, go ahead.”

MJ took a gulp of wine. “Okay, so, I got a call from my birth parents about a week and a half ago, and my dad is dying of cancer, so I went out to Colorado to meet with them and connect and all of that, but it turns out they really suck, so, um, I kind of kidnapped my siblings.”

Liz didn’t seem surprised. Harry and I exchanged a look, and then I nudged her. “You knew this?”

“I helped her get guardianship extra fast.”

I blinked. “Okay, I have…I have so many questions.”

“Yep,” MJ sighed, taking another gulp of wine.

“Um…who are they? What are they like? Why did they wait this long to contact you? What kind of cancer? What brand of shitty are they? Uh…oh, how many siblings? Where are they right now? I…yeah that’s it for now.”

MJ had counted the questions on her fingers, and then nodded. “Okay, um, my parent’s names are Janie and Darren. They had me at nineteen and twenty, couldn’t support me, gave me up, and then had more kids a few years later. Um, they’re…not nice. Super controlling, manipulative, toxic, really religious but not in a very chill way, definitely aggressively Christian. Um, they…they waited to contact me just because I don’t think it was urgent? And I think they avoided telling my siblings who I was because my brother – that’s weird to say by the way – my brother said he didn’t know I existed until our dad’s terminal diagnosis. I don’t think they know what type of cancer it is, but it’s inoperable at this point, I think.” She stared at her fingers for a moment. “Oh, um, three siblings. Twin girls, Rhea and Marcelle, they’re seventeen. And my brother, Mattaniah, he’s nineteen. They’re…they’re at my apartment right now.”

I stared at her, trying to process.

Harry snorted. “Pretentious names.”

MJ nodded. “Right? Mattaniah, seriously? We just call him Matt. Same with Marcelle, we call her Marcy.”

“Marcy’s a nice name,” Liz commented, taking a sip of her wine.

I frowned. “Okay, more questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Are they staying in your apartment, like, indefinitely? Also, how’d you manage to get guardianship so fast? It took May and Ben forever when I was a kid and my parents were dead.”

“I helped with the guardianship thing,” Liz said. “One of my classmates from law school is a judge in Denver now, so she was able to get the petition through really quickly.”

“Also, um, yeah, they just live with me now,” MJ answered. “They’re actually setting up an IKEA bunk bed in the living room while I’m here.”

“You live in a one bedroom, and there’s… four of you.” Harry had to count the siblings on his hand. I filed that away to make fun of him for later.

She nodded.

“How is there any space?”

She shook her head. “There isn’t. It’s a mess. But my lease isn’t up until February, and I don’t even know if I’d be able to afford a bigger place.”

“You know we can help you out,” Harry said, voice softening in a way I rarely heard. “Our lease is up at the end of December, we could get a bigger place for all of us.”

“All seven of us? Where are we gonna find an apartment that big?”

“Mr. Stark owns a few buildings in Queens,” I said. “Like, you know that new development where the old 7/11 was?”

She nodded.

“That’s almost done, and I know there’s a couple of penthouses that aren’t spoken for. I can ask about it.”

“I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” Liz said, firmly.

“You caught the most dangerous STD from Peter,” Harry teased. “Friends.”

MJ snorted. “You guys are the worst.”

Liz set her glass down and got off the counter. “Alright, come here.” She pulled MJ into a hug, and then Harry and I piled on.

We were all hugging for a couple moments before MJ’s phone rang, and we had to separate. The three of us moved out of the kitchen to give her a little more space as she picked up.

“Hey, Brad.”

I turned to Harry and said something stupid, so he’d start talking and I wouldn’t eavesdrop on their conversation.

**MJ**

“When did you get in?”

I glanced at Peter, worried he could hear, but he and Harry were chatting quietly. “Last night.”

“Well, can I take you out tonight?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you all week.”

“Um, I’m just getting my siblings settled in, I don’t feel like leaving them alone all night is the best option.”

“They’re adults, MJ.”

He was right. But still. “I don’t know. Can you come over? We can all watch a movie.”

His sigh was garbled by the phone. “We just won’t get any privacy,” he said. “I mean, obviously I’m not saying we need privacy, it’s just weird to hang out with your siblings all evening. I just wanna spend time with you.”

Liz gave me a look, and I realized I was kind of anxiously playing with the drawstring on my pants.

“Can we go out tomorrow then? Like, for lunch or dinner?”

“Yeah.” I could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, that sounds good. I can cook.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

 _Click_.

I hung up, and texted Matt.

_Me: are you guys holding up?_

_Me: you haven’t burnt the place down, have you?_

_Matt: everything is fine_

_Matt: we’re almost done with the bunk beds_

_Matt: when are you gonna be home?_

_Me: an hour at the most_

_Matt: kk, can we get pizza?_

I snorted. We were definitely related.

_Me: yeah I’ll order one_

_Matt: nice thank you_

“What was that about?” Liz asked, and the boys stopped talking.

I shrugged. “Brad wanted a date night, but I don’t wanna leave the kids alone in the apartment, so we agreed on tomorrow?”

Harry frowned. “Why couldn’t he just come over?”

“Meeting her siblings is a bit of a commitment, isn’t it?” Liz responded. “I mean, I don’t think they’ve even made it official- have you?”

The three of them stared at me. _Wow, the frayed edge of this drawstring sure is interesting._

“Em,” Peter prompted.

“Kinda?”

“What do you mean kind of?” Liz pressed. “You can’t be kind of official, you’re either exclusive or you’re not.”

I chewed on the inside of my lip. “He called me his girlfriend.”

“Without asking you?” Peter asked.

I shrugged.

Harry shook his head. “He and I are very different people,” he muttered.

Peter and Liz exchanged a look, one of those telepathic, we’ve-been-best-friends-for-years-and-know-exactly-what-these-looks-mean looks. And then neither of them asked any follow up questions.

I picked up my wine glass and downed the rest. “Cool. So, I’m gonna order a pizza for my siblings, and go by the bodega for some more orange juice because those guys can chug, and then go home,” I announced, setting the glass down in the sink.

Peter straightened up a little. “I’ll walk you home,” he offered.

Instinctually, I opened my mouth to decline, but then remembered how much I’d missed him, and just nodded. “Thanks, tiger.”

He immediately groaned, and Harry and Liz laughed.

“Oh, I’m so glad we adopted you,” Harry chuckled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and ruffling my hair. “Endless entertainment.”

“Yeah, we gotta send Jess a thank-you card for giving Peter the push he needed to hoe around,” Liz added.

Peter pouted. “I’m gonna grab a hoodie.”

Harry released me, and I pulled open a pizzeria’s website. Liz and Harry helped me place an order (because apparently I have no idea how much pizza is an appropriate amount for three teenagers and an adult), and then Peter and I left.

“So,” he said softly, “how are you feeling?”

I looked at him. He had his hands in his hoodie pockets, straightening his arms like a little kid.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I think if I got to know my parents now, and found out they sucked, I’d be pretty bummed.”

I snorted. “Bummed is a cute way to put it.”

“Stop deflecting.” His voice dropped half an octave, and I realized he was dead serious.

He hit the elevator button and stared at me.

“I don’t know.” I dropped my gaze to the floor. “It wasn’t fun, but I don’t know what I expected from people that put me in foster care.”

“But how are you doing?” he asked, more insistent this time. “Because you seem…stressed.”

I nodded. “I’m a little stressed. It’ll work out, though.”

The elevator doors open, and Peter let me in first before he stepped in after me.

“You can ask for help, if you need it. I can always hang out with your siblings if you want a night out with Brad.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I didn’t think you were listening.”

He flushed a little. “I didn’t mean to, it’s just…I can’t help it.”

“I know, I know. And, I mean, they don’t need a babysitter. The twins are seventeen, and my brother is nineteen. I just feel weird about leaving them alone while I’m out with my boyfriend, and they’ve just run away from home on, like, no notice.”

Peter snorted.

“What?”

“It’s just weird to hear you call Brad your boyfriend.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just feels…soon. And the way he just started calling you his girlfriend strikes me as weird. I-I don’t know.”

The doors opened again, and we headed out of the elevator and through the lobby.

“It is kind of soon.”

He looked at me, opening the door for me as he did. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t want to send him mixed messages, I guess. I mean, I like him. We get along. I enjoy spending time with him. And at this point, I don’t think I can complain that a guy _wants_ to commit to me, because that’s not the general thing men want.”

“Is it what you want?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Alright, fair enough.”

My phone rang. It was Rhea.

“Sorry, just…it’s my sister.”

“Yeah, go for it.”

I answered. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Matt said you were ordering pizza.”

Of course.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll be there in, like, twenty minutes. You just have to hit the green button on the intercom by the door to buzz the pizza guy in. I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“No problem. See you in a bit.”

 _Click_.

Peter was smiling to himself and shaking his head as I put my phone back in my pocket.

“What?”

“Your sister is just like you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I teased, shoving him playfully.

We got to the bodega, and smiled at the bodega guy as we started shopping.

“Oh, can you do me one favour?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Can you stop by the apartment in the suit?”

He looked at me, and then lowered his voice. “Like, the-the _suit?_ ”

I nodded.

“Uh, sure.”

“Thank you. It doesn’t have to be tonight, just when Marcy’s home. I think I’ll win some cool sister points, and she’ll feel safer.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” He smiled.

We finished shopping, and he whipped his card out at the register.

“What are you doing?” I asked, still opening my wallet.

“I’m getting it.”

“No, no.” I shook my head, and turned to the bodega man. “Don’t accept his card.”

“Em, I’m just trying to help you out-”

“And I’m telling you that you don’t need to-”

Peter tapped his card against the reader, and I looked at the bodega man.

“Come on, dude.”

He shrugged, and handed me my groceries.

Peter and I headed out.

“You’re so stubborn.”

He scoffed. “Calling the kettle black, much?”

“It’s not your responsibility, Peter,” I said, narrowly avoiding his attempt to grab the plastic bag. “I appreciate it, but I took them in. I can’t make you pay for it. It was my choice.”

“You didn’t _make_ me do anything.”

I glared at him, walking backwards towards my building. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

He grinned. “That’s Harry, but I appreciate it,” he teased.

I swung the bag at him, but he dodged it.

I turned back around and walked forwards, beside him, like a normal person.

“What have I missed since I’ve been off playing knight in shining armour to by siblings?” I asked.

Peter shrugged. “Not a lot. Oh, I started seeing this girl.”

“Like, seeing her? Or, you know, _seeing_ her?”

“Oh, god, don’t put it like that,” he laughed.

“That’s a yes.”

“That’s a yes,” he confirmed.

I nudged him a little. “And? What’s she like? How’s the sex? Does she have better boobs than me?”

He laughed again, nervously. “She’s cool. Her name’s Gwen, she’s a science teacher. It’s…fun. She’s not super into the rougher stuff, but it’s fun.”

“You’re avoiding the boobs question,” I pointed out, holding back a laugh.

“Please-”

“I’m not gonna make you answer.”

He let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Thank you.”

I smiled. “I’m happy for you.”

“You’re happy I’m getting laid?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

He laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I know.”

We got to my building, and I pulled out my keys and opened the doors for us.

“Do you think she’s girlfriend material?” I asked.

“Gwen?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know that that’s where I’m at.”

We got to the elevator, and I leaned against the wall. “Still recovering from Jess?” I asked.

He hesitated. “I don’t know. I think I’ve…I’ve kinda figured myself out a little more. I should maybe just…be alone until I find someone I really like.”

His eyes met mine in a really vulnerable way. And I couldn’t place why it felt like that.

“Yeah, it’s probably a good way to go about it.” I looked away.

He looked down, too. “Yeah. That’s what Liz said.”

We fell silent for a moment, and then we got to my floor, and got out of the elevator.

“Do you wanna meet my siblings?” I asked. “You don’t have to, I just…I think you guys will like each other.”

He smiled. “Sure.”

We got to my door, and I unlocked it and headed in. Rhea and Marcelle were sitting on the couch, eating slices of pizza, and Matt was sitting with the IKEA instructions in the corner, half a slice of pizza hanging out of his mouth.

“Hey, how’s the pizza?”

Rhea and Marcy looked up from their phones and gave a thumbs up in unison. Matt glanced up, and took the slice out of his mouth. “Is this Brad?”

“I’m Peter.”

“Brad was busy,” I lied. “Peter helped me grab some groceries and walked me home.”

“Nice to meet you,” Matt said, a little bite in his tone. “I’m Matt, that’s Rhea and Marcelle.”

Peter glanced at me. “They’re identical.”

I snorted, setting the groceries on the counter. “Anyways, he can’t stay, he just came up to meet you guys. Oh, and thank him for the metric ton of orange juice he bought.” I started to put things away.

Marcy jumped up. “Ooh, thank you!”

He chuckled. “Yeah, no problem.”

Marcy stuck out her hand. “I’m Marcy, that’s Rhea.”

He shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. Um, I heard you like Spider-Man.”

She shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, he’s alright.”

“Well, I work for Stark Industries. I make his web fluid and update the suit’s software, so I’m pretty close with him. If you ever need someone to walk you home at night, I’m sure I can call in a favour.”

Marcy’s eyes lit up, but she tried to keep a straight face. “That sounds good to me.”

She grabbed another slice out of the box on the counter, and went back to her seat next to Rhea.

Peter looked at me, and I nodded. She liked him.

“Here,” he said, “let me help.”

“No no no, you paid, I can put the groceries away.”

He rolled his eyes and packed the last couple things away for me anyways. I scowled at him, but put the plastic bag away in my plastic bag drawer.

I caught Rhea, Marcy, and Matt exchanging a look out of the corner of my eye.

What was it with everyone communicating telepathically without me?

“Alright, lemme walk you out,” I sighed.

“Sure.” He turned to my siblings. “Nice to meet you guys.”

The girls waved. Matt gave him a nod and a bit of stink-eye.

I walked Peter out of my apartment and to the elevators.

“They liked you,” I assured him.

He laughed, relieved. “Oh, good, my self-esteem hinged on their approval.”

The elevator doors opened, and Peter held his hand out, holding the doors opened. Suddenly, we felt very close to each other. I was tempted to step back, but it felt weird.

For a second, we were just looking at each other, silent. It felt vulnerable again.

And then he looked down and cleared his throat, stepping back into the elevator. “Um, I’ll see you this weekend?”

“Hopefully.”

He smiled. “Goodnight, Em.”

“Goodnight, tiger.”

The doors closed, and I went back to my apartment. The second the door opened, the three of them were looking at me.

“So,” Rhea said, “when did you guys fuck?”

“Rhea!” Marcy smacked her, but Rhea was still staring at me.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Does Brad know?” Rhea pressed.

Matt and Marcy were watching me with a kind of hesitation, like they were scared I was gonna blow up.

I sighed. “Okay, fine. We met over the summer on Tinder and hooked up, and it happened a few more times, but he’s seeing someone and I’m seeing someone, and we’re good friends.”

Rhea sat back, smugly smiling and crossing her arms. “I called it.”

Matt scoffed. “It was obvious.”

“Nuh-uh. You said he likes her.”

“And I stand by it!”

“I think he’s cute?” Marcy added. “Like, for you. Not for me.”

I chuckled. “You three are insane.” I grabbed a slice of pizza, and sat down on the couch, next to Marcy.

“He’s nice to you,” Rhea said. “But he definitely still wants to fuck you.”

“Jesus,” Matt muttered.

“I’m not wrong.”

“She’s not,” Marcy admitted. “He definitely likes you.”

I tried not to think about the way he looked at me in the elevator, and then a few moments ago. “We’re friends. He knows I have a boyfriend.”

“You like him,” Matt challenged, narrowing his eyes at me. Dear god, he was using my move on me.

“We’re. Friends.”

“And you still like him. You smiled more in the two minutes he was in the apartment than anytime you’ve been on the phone with Brad.” Matt was staring at me.

I shook my head. “I think you guys like him and you’re projecting onto me. Let’s just finish the bunk bed.”

The three of them looked at each other, and then collectively rolled their eyes and dropped it.

It took us until two in the morning, but we did get the bunk bed finished, and Marcy claimed the top bunk and Rhea the bottom.

“We’ll get you guys a proper dresser,” I told them, cleaning up the mess of cardboard and little baggies and paper. “And I’ll try to sell that couch and get a pull-out, Matt.”

He shrugged, digging through his suitcase to find a change of clothes. “It’s fine.”

My heart ached for them. Because the three of them being cramped in the corner of a small, one-bedroom apartment was better than having their own spaces at home.

I was up until dawn, trying to budget so I could afford a bigger apartment next year. Because this couldn’t be a long-term solution.


	14. as the dust begins to settle...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a really small mention of sexual harassment in this chapter (it's not graphic, violent, etc, just uncomfy) so pls be aware of that  
> still not beta read, i'm sorry!

**MJ**

I spent most of the weekend trying to clean out my closet a bit to make room for my siblings, as well as my bathroom and storage.

My siblings were out exploring the city with Liz, so I was alone in the apartment, listening to music and going through my belongings, throwing everything I didn’t use or wear into a donation pile.

And then the intercom went off. I went out to it and answered it.

“Hello?”

“It’s Brad.”

“Come on up.” I buzzed him in.

He was at my front door a few moments later, and I opened the door for him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He kissed me, and then stepped inside.

“Uh, whatcha doing here?” I asked.

“Nothing, I just wanted to spend time with you.”

I smiled. “I’m just cleaning out my closet a b-”

He was staring behind me, and my voice trailed off as I followed his gaze to the bunk beds in the corner of the living room.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. Lead the way.”

Brad followed me into my room, and sat on my bed while I went back to my closet.

“So, um, where are your siblings?”

“They’re out with my friend, Liz. The one that helped me get guardianship? She offered to show them around the neighbourhood a little bit.”

“That’s nice of her.”

“Yeah, she’s been pretty great the last week or so.” I held up a blouse I hadn’t worn in a while. “What do you think? To donate or not to donate?”

“Why are you donating clothes?” he asked.

“I need more closet space so that the kids- well, they’re not kids, but still- so that they can have somewhere to hang up at least a few clothes. I’m gonna put some of my summer clothes in storage, too, I think.”

He looked at the shirt, and tilted his head a little. “I kind of like that top. The colour suits you.”

I put it back in my closet, and kept sorting through stuff. “Um, I’m sorry I didn’t get to stay very long for our date yesterday.”

“It’s alright,” he assured me. “You’ve had a hectic few days.”

“Yeah, just a bit.”

He caught me up on his last week while I finished my donation pile and put it in a bag, and then as I pulled out all my summer clothes and packed up into cardboard boxes and stored them under my bed.

“Do you wanna go out for dinner?” Brad asked, as I finally flopped over on the bed.

I shook my head. “I gotta finish some forms to make sure Rhea and Marcy are enrolled in a school here. Peter helped me make sure they could go to Midtown, but I still gotta submit the forms tomorrow morning.” I looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

The front door opened, and I heard Liz and my siblings walk in, still chatting.

“MJ?” Liz called.

I pulled myself up, and Brad followed me out of my room.

“Hey, what’d you guys get up to?” I asked.

“Liz took us all over,” Marcy said. “Like, Empire State, Statue of Liberty, Time Square, everywhere.”

Matt was staring past me, and when things fell silent for a moment, it was tense.

“Oh,” Brad said, “I’m Brad. MJ’s…boyfriend.”

“Marcy.”

“I’m Rhea.”

Matt was glaring, harsher than when he’d met Peter. “I’m Matt.”

I could feel Brad bristle behind me.

“Nice to meet you guys.” He looked at Liz. “And I take it you’re Liz?”

She nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.”

It was tense for a moment. Rhea and Marcy broke the stillness, heading over to the living room and taking a seat on the couch and bottom bunk. Matt stared at Brad, infallible.

“Um, MJ, can I chat with you for a second?” Liz asked.

“Yeah.”

I stepped outside the apartment with her, shooting Brad an apologetic glance before closing the door.

“What’s up?”

“Matt’s tuition payment was withdrawn. He got the notification while we were out.”

I blinked. “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head.

I took a deep breath. “Alright. I’ll- I can’t believe our parents actually followed through on that.”

Liz looked at the ground. “I’m sorry. Legally, there’s nothing I can do.”

“No, no, it’s alright. It might be a good thing. I can’t imagine trying to do school at the same time as…” I gestured at the door, “…all of this.” I sighed. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, and then shrugged. “I guess. It’s better than they’re here than with them. I’m just…trying to figure this out.”

“Matt gave his resumé to a couple of shops while we were out. If he’s not in school, he can probably help out a little.”

I felt guilty for even considering it.

“Alright, c’mere.”

Liz pulled me into a hug. It didn’t solve everything, but I did feel a little better.

“Thanks for taking them out,” I mumbled into her shoulder.

“Yeah, of course, MJ.” She pulled away and smiled. “I’m gonna head home, lemme know if you need anything, alright?”

“Okay.”

She went off towards the elevators, and before I could open my door, Brad did.

“Hey, um, I’m gonna head home, if that’s alright. I don’t wanna keep you if you’ve got stuff to do tonight.”

He seemed tense, but I didn’t comment on it.

“Yeah, okay. Text me when you get home.”

He kissed me, a little longer this time than when he’d gotten here, and then headed off the same way Liz had gone.

I went back into the apartment, and Matt was in the kitchen, getting a glass of water. The girls were both on the couch.

“So that’s Brad,” Matt said, sounding unimpressed.

I stifled a laugh. There was something adorable and hilarious about a nineteen-year-old being so protective over me.

“I liked him.” Rhea didn’t even look up from her phone.

“Yeah, me too.”

I looked at Matt, and he shrugged.

“Anyways,” I said, “I cleared out my closet a bit, so there’s room for you guys to hang up some clothes if you want.” I went over to the coffee table to pick up the Midtown forms. “Did you two sign these?”

The twins nodded in unison.

I put them on the counter and grabbed a pen, and finished signing it.

“Okay, Peter said he’d come by in the morning and take you guys to school and show you around a bit before classes start, so you both have to be ready by quarter to eight, okay? That’s when he’ll be here.”

The girls nodded.

“And you have to bring these forms with you when you go- actually, I’m gonna tape these to the door so you can’t forget them.”

I dug through the kitchen drawer that had lighters, scissors, chargers, and all kinds of junk in it, and finally found some old Washi tape. I stuck the forms to the front door, and put the tape away again.

“Okay. That’s everything.”

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Matt asked.

I sighed. “Yeah, okay. Let’s order in some food, too. Chinese?”

**Peter**

“Gwen’s gonna come over in about an hour,” I said, barely glancing up from my phone.

I didn’t need to look up, though, to catch the look at Liz and Harry exchanged.

“What’s up with you two?” Liz came over to the table, where I was soaking up the last little bit of light before the sun dipped below the skyline.

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “Just…seems like she’s been here a lot. Especially since MJ and Brad-”

“It has nothing to do with MJ.” I said it way too fast, and it sounded defensive. Liz and Harry both opened their mouths, but I shook my head. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“We were just wondering if you guys are dating,” Harry said, hands up in surrender. “Yeesh.”

“I’m not dating Gwen.”

“Good,” Liz said. I gave her a quizzical look, and she continued, “Because you don’t like her. You like MJ.”

I looked at Harry, and his hands went back up. “I didn’t say anything.”

“He didn’t have to.”

My shoulders slumped, and I let out a sigh. “Yeah. Well. It’s too late now, isn’t it.”

Liz smacked my shoulder. “Yeah, dumbass, because she liked you too, and she moved on to Brad because she thought you didn’t wanna date anyone. And _I_ thought that, too, because you didn’t tell me you liked her!”

“Hey! I wasn’t sure how I felt, and then she was dating Brad right when I figured it out and wanted to tell her!”

Liz sighed, and Harry tentatively lowered his hands.

“If you two had just _talked_ -”

“Yeah, well, we didn’t. And I’m not gonna mess with her situation with Brad.”

“You hate him,” Harry pointed out, coming over to the table.

I frowned. “Yeah. Not because I like MJ- well, okay, maybe a little, but he’s…terrible.”

“Oh, straight up awful. Not a good guy,” Liz agreed. “He’s a piece of shit.”

“So why are you letting it play out if you know you can treat her better?” Harry asked.

“Because I’m not gonna be that guy. That makes me just as bad as Brad,” I argued. “I’m not interfering, or meddling, or manipulating, or any of it.” I took a breath, trying to calm the rising frustration in my chest. “She’ll either figure it out, or she won’t.”

“And in the meantime, you’re gonna fuck a girl who obviously wants to date you?” Harry crossed his arms.

I shook my head. “No, Gwen doesn’t wanna-”

“Yes, she does,” Liz said. “She spends weeknights over, she asks you to go out for drinks, lunch, whatever. She likes you.”

“She hasn’t said that to me.”

Liz snorted. “Okay. Sure. If she does, though, I will be telling you that I told you so.”

“Fair enough.”

They backed off, and when Gwen came over, they turned up the volume on the TV and didn’t say anything as I walked her into my bedroom.

Maybe I was becoming a bit of a fuckboy. I don’t know.

**MJ**

Over the course of the next few weeks, Brad kept insisting on taking me out on dates, or having me over to his place. I asked him a few times to come over, and something would come up at the last minute, or he’d insist on having some privacy.

In that time, Rhea and Marcy settled in at Midtown. They joined the academic decathlon (apparently Peter had encouraged it, and showed them a few of the old trophies, and they jumped on it) and even went to a couple of parties. Matt got a job at a McDonald’s a couple blocks away, and had started to help with the bills, and it made my life a lot easier.

By the time Halloween rolled around, I was finally feeling happy and relieved of stress again.

On Halloween, Brad planned on going to a party with some of his friends, and invited me along. We even planned matching costumes, him as Mr. Incredible and me as Elastigirl.

The evening of, I made sure Matt had a key to the apartment, since he and the girls were going to a party, and the twins planned on drinking. As I was trying to make sure the girls had my number memorized, knew how to hail a cab, knew not to accept drinks from strangers that they hadn’t seen poured, blah blah blah, Brad rang the intercom.

I buzzed him in, and finished lecturing the girls on keeping their drinks covered, and then let Brad in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m almost ready. Um, come in, I just need to grab the mask and my shoes and then we can go.”

He stepped in, and I left him in the living room with my siblings while I finished putting red chalk in my hair, and then grabbed my mask and boots, and my little utility belt with my phone in it.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Matt looked irked, and the girls were quiet as they finished adjusting their costumes.

“We were just heading out,” Matt said.

“You have the key?”

“Yes, _mom_ ,” he teased. “We’ll be fine. See you later.”

The three of them headed out, and then it was just Brad and I in the apartment.

He smiled at me. “You look great.” His hands landed on my waist, and kind of trailed over my (minimal) curves. “Ready to go?”

I grinned back at him. “Yep. Let’s go.”

\---

It was a long night of meeting friends, pretending to be interested in their financial jobs, and drinking hard seltzers I didn’t like. But finally, finally, after midnight, I told Brad, “I should get home,” and we Ubered back.

He walked me up to my apartment. “You really do look good in that,” he mumbled, slurring a little, hand running up and down my back as we walked down the hallway.

I giggled. “Thank you, Mr. Incredible.”

We got to my door, and I pulled out my keys, fumbling a little as I tried to unlock the door.

“Are you sure you don’t just wanna come back to my place?” Brad whined. “You know, stay the night, have breakfast in the morning-”

“I really can’t,” I told him, finally unlocking the door. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

“I had a good time tonight.”

“Yeah, me too.” He leaned in, and kissed me. “My friends liked you, too.”

I nodded, and smiled. “Goodnight,” I whispered.

“Goodnight.”

I stepped inside, and closed the door quietly, locking it once I did. The girls were in their beds, asleep, but Matt was still awake, laying on the couch, face illuminated by the blue light of his phone.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey. Did we wake you up?”

“No.”

“Okay, good.”

I padded through the apartment, towards the bathroom, and realized Matt had gotten up and followed me to the bathroom.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

I nodded, pulling out my skincare stuff. “Yeah, of course. Did anything happen tonight?”

He shook his head. “No, no, the party was small, and we all had fun. Um, but, before the party, when Brad was here, he was…he wasn’t really nice.”

I stopped pulling out my cleansers and serums and gave Matt my attention. “What did he say?”

He hesitated. “He told the girls they were jailbait. And when I tried to tell him not to speak to them like that, he told me I was getting in his way, and that I was why you two weren’t as close as he wanted to be.”

“What?”

“I didn’t wanna tell you, because I don’t wanna ruin your-”

“No, no no no, thank you for telling me that. That’s not…that’s not an okay way for him to talk about you or the girls.”

Matt looked anxious, so I took a page out of Liz’s book as hugged him.

“I’ll talk to him.”

He hugged me back. “Thank you.”

\---

Once I’d washed my face and changed into pajamas, I crawled into bed.

But it was bugging me.

_Me: hey_

_Me: are you still up?_

_Brad: yeah, I just got in. the bar by my building is still bumpin_

_Me: did you tell the girls they were jailbait?_

The three dots that signified him typing popped up and disappeared about three times before I got a text.

_Brad: I was just trying to tell them that they were maybe dressed inappropriately for their age_

_Brad: you saw their costumes_

_Me: yeah, I know, I took them shopping for them_

_Me: they’re 17 dude, you can’t say that to them_

_Brad: whatever, I’m too tired for this_

_Brad: I’ll talk to you tomorrow_

_Me: excuse me?_

_Brad: goodnight_

I didn’t respond. I was fuming.

The way the girls were acting before they left, quiet and almost hiding behind Matt, made way more sense now, and I was so angry at Brad for saying that shit to begin with, and then refusing to acknowledge how fucked up it was.

Most of the night was spent staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the choice words I had for him in the morning.


	15. ...more dust is kicked up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for this chapter: small mentions of sexual harassment, minor character death  
> also not beta read, pls excuse any typos or errors!

**MJ**

Brad opened the door to his apartment, looking annoyed. “Are you still mad?”

“Yes.”

He stepped aside and let me in. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You were slut shaming them.”

“That- I wasn’t slut shaming, MJ, that’s a little dramatic.”

I glared at him. “Are you serious? You called them jailbait for wearing revealing costumes.”

“Yeah, because I don’t want them to get in trouble-”

“They had Matt with them,” I snapped. “They’re not your responsibility. And it’s not like you even like them.”

“I didn’t say that I don’t like them.”

“Yeah, no, of course you didn’t. You just avoid my apartment at all costs, refuse to interact with them for more than a few seconds at a time, you’d rather take me out to a restaurant or have me over here than just spend an evening in the same apartment as them.”

“That’s not fair-”

“But it’s true!”

He sighed. “It’s nothing personal, it’s just…I don’t wanna feel like I’m babysitting, you know? I didn’t sign up for that-”

“Well, then, you shouldn’t have signed up for me!”

That hung in the air for a moment, and I realized what I had said. And as much as I wanted to regret it, or take it back, or feel sorry, I didn’t.

“MJ-”

I shook my head. “You need to think about this relationship,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”

And I left.

**Peter**

I was sitting at the table, by the windows, with my laptop, responding to some work emails and finishing up a mock-up of a new webshooter design, when my phone rang. I glanced at it, and saw MJ’s face.

“Hey.”

I heard a sniffle. “Um, can I- can I come over?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s just me at home right now, Liz just left with Betty for a little road trip, and Harry’s staying late at work. Is-is everything okay?”

She sniffled again, and it sounded like she was fully crying and trying to hold it together. “My dad died.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah- do you want me to come over there? So you and your siblings don’t have to be alone-”

“No, no, they said they wanted to be alone. Rhea and Marcy are watching a movie and Matt went for a walk.”

“Okay. Yeah, come on over.”

“Thank you.”

She hung up, and I buzzed her into the building a few moments later.

She knocked on the door, and I was not prepared to see her when I opened it. She was wearing a baggy sweater and leggings and old Converse, and her hair was in a bun on top of her head, and she was crying. Tears running down her cheeks, pink nose, quivering lip, crying.

“Hey,” she said, trying to smile.

“Alright, come here.” I pulled her into the apartment and hugged her.

I had never really thought of MJ as emotional, I realized. She always seemed cool and calm and intimidatingly deadpan, even when I knew she was upset. 

Feeling her tears soak through my sweatshirt felt like a secret I had to guard with my life.

I rubbed her back, and squeezed her, and let her cry until she eventually pulled away, sniffling and wiping at her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been trying to hold it together for everyone else,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” I let my hands fall away from her, gave her some space. “Do you want some water, or tea, or…?”

“Tea?” Her voice was soft and a little fried, maybe from crying, and it made my chest tighten.

“Yeah, of course.”

I showed her where the teas were, and let her pick one as I dug Harry’s fancy kettle out of the cupboard and boiled some water.

“You don’t have to make it for me, Peter,” she said, pulling out a teabag. “I can-”

“Go sit down, I’ve got it.”

“Peter-”

“I’ve got it,” I insisted, holding out my hand.

Reluctantly, she gave me the teabag. “Thank you.” She went over to the couch and sat down.

“So,” I asked, against my better judgement, “why did you come over here?”

She hesitated. “Because you’re my friend…?”

“No, I know that. I meant, like, why not Brad’s place?” I turned to look, just in time to see her sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine. I’m just pissed at him.”

I poured her tea into the biggest mug we had, and brought it over. “Don’t burn yourself, it’s hot.”

She smiled, taking the mug with both hands. “Thanks, tiger.”

“You're allowed to call me tiger but only because you’re sad.”

She laughed lightly. “I appreciate it.”

I got comfy next to her on the couch. “Why are you mad at Brad?”

“He said some dumb shit, and then said more dumb shit to cover his tracks, and now I don’t really wanna talk to him.”

I wanted to tell her to dump him, because she could do _so_ much better, but I bit my tongue.

“Anyways, I’ll talk to him later,” she muttered. “I just didn’t wanna deal with it right this second, you know?”

“Yeah.”

She blew on her tea, and then took a sip. “This whole thing sucks.”

“He died,” I reminded her, “of course it sucks.”

“But I didn’t even like him.” Her voice cracked, and her eyes welled with tears all over again. “I really kind of hated him for letting Janie walk all over everyone and be such a colossal bitch. I knew him for all of an hour and a half, and wanted to punch him the whole time.”

I took a breath. “I mean, if you’re anything like me, you’ve probably wondered your whole life what he was like, right?”

She nodded.

“So then you meet him, and he’s not who you wanted him to be, and you have to grieve that once. And then he dies, and you have to grieve him a second time.”

MJ looked down. “I really hate you when you’re right.” Her voice broke again, and I watched teardrops fall from her face and darken her sweater.

“Yeah, join the club.”

**MJ**

Peter hung out with me for a couple hours, but then his phone lit up with a news alert, and he was suiting up at the speed of light, so I went home and texted Liz and Harry to make sure he got back in safe.

When I got to my building, Brad was standing in the entrance, waiting to be buzzed in.

“I didn’t realize you weren’t home,” he said, by way of greeting, I guess.

I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t know what to say it him, so I just pulled out my keys and unlocked the door.

“You look upset.”

I opened the door, holding it for him to let him in. “My dad died.”

“Like, your adoptive dad?”

I frowned. “No, my birth dad. The one with cancer.”

“Oh.” He followed me to the elevators. “I just thought it’d be your adoptive dad, for some reason.”

“Why?” I sounded snappier than I meant to be. I punched the button for my floor, figuring I should at least commit to my snappiness.

He shrugged. “Because of how upset you look. I don’t know, I didn’t think you’d be that sad when your real dad died.”

The “real dad” comment rubbed me the wrong way, because my adoptive dad was, for all intents and purposes, my real dad. But I let that part go.

“Why wouldn’t I be sad?”

“You didn’t like him!”

It was such a stark contrast from the way Peter had reacted. Hugging me, making me tea, assuring me that I had every right to be upset.

And I _hated_ Brad.

“You know,” I said, keeping my voice level and calm, “you never asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“What? What are you-”

“And you have been nothing but an absolute asshole since I came back from Colorado. You have slut-shamed my sisters, been rude to my brother, and brushed off my grief because my dad died.” The elevator doors opened on my floor, and I stepped out before Brad. “Do me a favour and lose my number.”

He stared at me. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

The doors closed between us, and I turned and went back into my apartment.

All three of my siblings were huddled together on the couch, watching a Disney movie and drinking tea.

I opened my phone and blocked Brad on everything.

And then I settled in with them, and we ordered Thai food from a place Peter had recommended, and grieved together.

**Peter**

The next morning, as Gwen was leaving, I got a text from MJ.

_MJ: I broke up with brad_

_Me: are you okay??_

_MJ: yeah_

_MJ: I didn’t really like him lol_

_MJ: I’m glad that’s over_

_Me: do you need anything?_

_Me: ice cream, hugs?_

_MJ: anything?_

Oh, no. What did I just get myself into?

_Me: anything._

_MJ: will you come to Colorado w us for the funeral?_

“Why are you staring at your phone like that?” Liz asked, heading into the kitchen, presumably to make coffee.

“MJ told you her birth dad died, right?”

“Yeah. Does she need-”

“She asked me to come with her to Colorado for the funeral.”

Liz frowned. “Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. She broke up with Brad.”

She nodded. “Right. Yeah. Go with her.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Liz said, “she’s way too protective of her siblings to ask for help from them when she needs it. If she needs someone to lean on, she’s gonna want you.”

I tried to ignore the weird way my heart skipped a beat at the mere _idea_ of MJ wanting me for anything.

Liz continued, “Also, you miss her. And this is the perfect opportunity to spend time with her.”

“I’m not capitalizing on her dad’s death to spend time with her,” I said, already excited about the time I’d get to spend with her.

Liz took one look at me and smirked. “Yeah, you are. You’ve already made a mental packing list.”

I rolled my eyes at her, but opened my phone again.

_Me: when?_

_MJ: this weekend. flights leave on friday night, and the funeral is on sunday so we probably wont get back until monday or tuesday_

_Me: I’ll book the time off._

_MJ: you’re the best thank you peter_

“You’re such a dork.”

“Hey!”

Liz laughed.

\---

I made sure to book the days off that I needed to, helped MJ pay for a hotel room (despite her constant protest), and packed. On Friday, when I got home from work, I just grabbed my bags and headed over to MJ’s.

MJ and her siblings were just inside the doors. MJ was going through her backpack, and pulled out a handful of passports and counted. Luckily, one of the twins spotted me and ran to the doors, letting me in.

“Thank you…Marcy?”

She grinned. “Yep!”

I pulled my suitcase in after me, and joined them inside. MJ glanced up and saw me.

“Hi, sorry, we’re almost ready. I just gotta do a final check and make sure we have everything before we go. You have everything?”

I nodded. “You know you don’t need a passport for domestic flights, right?”

Matt raised an eyebrow at me. “Maybe not if you’re white.”

I blinked. “That’s…that’s a fair point. Does that actually happen?”

MJ shrugged. “On occasion. It’s just better to be safe than sorry.” She looked up. “I think we’re good to go.”

I opened the door, and held it as the twins and Matt headed outside, and then MJ and I followed them.

“Hold on,” she said quietly, stopping me before I could hail a taxi. “I’ve been trying to teach them.”

She and I stood back while Matt tried to hail a taxi, failing as three taxis drove right passed.

Rhea stepped forward, waved a taxi over, and it pulled over in front of us.

She gave her brother a smug grin, and he rolled his eyes at her.

Either MJ had rubbed off on them, or it was a genetic thing.

Luckily, the taxi she’d hailed was a minivan, so there was plenty of room for us and our luggage. Matt immediately started to load the luggage into the back, and gave me a weird look when I helped, loading my bag and Rhea’s as he was lifting Marcy’s in.

“What?”

He shrugged. “I knew I liked you better than Brad.”

The approval of a nineteen-year-old should not have made me that happy, but I found myself suppressing a smile.

I took MJ’s bag and loaded it in, and she and her siblings got into the taxi. I closed the trunk and got in after them.

MJ triple checked which airport we were headed to, and then told the driver, and we were off.

_Me: we’re on our way to the airport_

_Liz: have fun_

_Liz: lemme know if anything happens_

_Me: nah I thought I’d just let you figure it out on your own_

_Liz: you’ve become mj_

_Liz: anyways have fun_

_Liz: text me when you land_

_Me: sounds good_

“I told Liz we’re on our way,” I said.

MJ looked over at me, and then smiled. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Hey,” Marcy said from the back, “do you think I can use this whole thing as an excuse not to finish my chemistry homework?”

Matt frowned at her. “Dad died and that’s your question?”

Marcy shrank a little, like she was scared she was in trouble.

“Dude, obviously. Milk it for all it’s worth,” Matt said, reaching for her phone. “I’ll write the email.”

“Ooh, yes, please get me excused from my calculus homework that’s due on Wednesday,” Rhea added, “I really don’t wanna work on that.”

The three of them sat in the back, drafting emails to teachers, and MJ glanced over at me, amused.

I was just happy to see her looking happier.

We got to the airport, through security, waited by our gate, and finally boarded the plane.

It was a small plane. One seat to a row on the left, two seats to a row on the right. The twins sat together, and Matt sat alone across from them. MJ and I were in the seats right behind the twins.

“You can take the window seat,” I told her, and she looked at me.

“Are you sure?”

I nodded, and she smiled.

Every time she smiled, it felt a little less forced than the last time.

She sat down, pulling her earphones out of her backpack before she tucked it under the seat.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” I asked. “I brought earphone splitters.” I dug through my backpack as I sat down, finally finding them under my chargers, and pulled it out.

“That depends, what movies do you have?”

I pulled out my laptop, and opened up my library of downloaded movies, letting her look over it.

She picked a Meryl Streep movie, and once the safety demonstration was over, we plugged in our headphones and started the movie.

Half an hour in, she dozed off, her head on my shoulder.

I turned the volume down, so it wouldn’t wake her.


	16. action packed weekend, much?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: minor character death mentions, small episode of physical abuse, smut  
> (not beta read, pls excuse any errors!)

**Peter**

We landed in Colorado just after ten thirty, and MJ was still exhausted, despite sleeping for a couple hours on the plane. In her defense, it was past midnight in New York.

She was half-leaning on me at baggage claim, and Rhea and Marcy and Matt kept exchanging looks.

We got our bags and headed outside.

Matt hailed a taxi this time, and stuck his tongue out at Rhea.

“It’s an airport, dude, it’s the easiest place to hail a taxi.” She crossed her arms.

He brushed her off. “Oh, shush.”

We loaded our luggage into the trunk, and got into the taxi. Matt gave the driver the address. MJ dozed off on my shoulder again. The drive felt long, but maybe it was because I was stiff and restless from a long flight. Matt and the twins were talking quietly, and the driver has some music on quietly.

I watched out the window while we drove, glad that I was a New Yorker because swinging around in suburban cities was a pain in the ass. If high school had taught me anything, that was it.

Finally, we pulled up outside their mom’s house, and I gently woke MJ.

“Hey, we’re here.”

She sat up. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. Again.”

“It’s alright.”

I paid the driver before MJ perked up enough to protest, and helped her out of the taxi. Matt had already pulled the suitcases out of the trunk.

MJ’s siblings started up the walk, and MJ hung back for a moment.

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“For what?”

She looked behind her, at the taxi that was pulling away from the curb. “For letting me sleep on you all evening, for paying for the taxi, for helping with the bags…”

“It’s no problem,” I assured her, running my hands over her arms as she shivered. “Let’s just get in so you can get to sleep.”

She smiled again, playfully swatting my hands away, and we headed up the walk.

Her mom was standing in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Hi.” MJ’s voice lost the warm, soft, sleepy tones it had with me, and had gone cold and hard and unforgiving.

“Good evening,” her mom said. She looked at me. “I’m Janie.”

I forced a smile. “I’m Peter. It’s nice to meet you.” I held out my hand, and she shook it, if a little hesitant.

“Likewise. MJ, I know you said you were bringing a friend, but I don’t know if you’re setting a good example.”

She frowned. “Why, do you think Peter and I are gonna keep the kids up all night by-”

I coughed, and she glanced at me, but didn’t finish her sentence. Thank god, because this was already tense, and I can’t imagine the end of that statement would’ve made things better.

“I don’t know why I worry about it _now_ , you’ve probably subjected them to every bad habit in the book since they’ve been living with you.”

MJ straightened a little, shoulder’s back, chest puffed. “I have not subjected them to anything. I haven’t had a drink in front of them, I haven’t had anyone stay over, nothing. I have had friends show them around the city, I have helped the girls get into a good school, Peter has shown them how to get there and how to get around and helped with homework and offered to walk them home if it’s dark. The only thing I haven’t _subjected_ them to is tyranny and forced religion,” she snapped.

Janie glared, and I could hear her heart rate quicken and feel the rage radiate off of her.

“We will talk about this tomorrow. You know where your room is.”

MJ nodded, and stepped in, pulling her suitcase after her.

“Sorry, um, where’s my room?”

Janie shook her head. “I figured MJ would bring a female friend who could just stay in the same room as her. I guess you can sleep in Matt’s room.”

I barely squeaked out an, “Okay,” before following MJ upstairs.

MJ led me down a hall, and pointed out her room and Matt’s room.

“Ask him,” she said softly. “If he wants to sleep on his own, you can just sneak into my room, I don’t mind.”

I nodded, and knocked on Matt’s door.

“Come in.”

When I opened it, he was sitting on his bed, on his phone. He glanced up and realized it was me.

“Peter.”

“Hi. Um, your-your mom said to stay in here with you, but if you don’t want me to I can stay with MJ.”

He shook his head. “Nah, you’re good. Come in.”

I stepped in, closing the door behind me, and set my suitcase down.

“I have a sleeping bag in the closet, or I can run downstairs and grab the air mattress, if you want,” Matt offered.

“The sleeping bag is fine by me.”

He got up and pulled it out of his closet, handing me a rolled up camo sleeping bag.

“Thanks.”

I laid it out on the floor, and unzipped my suitcase, pulling out a change of clothes and my toiletries.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.

“Right across the hall from me. I’d get in there before the twins start their skincare routine.”

I snorted. “Thanks.”

I went into the bathroom, changed, got ready for bed, and opened the door, only to see MJ standing right there. I jumped, and then laughed softly.

“Sorry, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she muttered. “Matt’s cool with you staying in his room?”

I nodded.

“I figured he’d be excited to sleep in solitude for once. Oh, well.”

Shrugging, I said, “He gave me a sleeping bag and doesn’t seem to hate me, so I think it’s fine.”

She smiled, wider this time than she had all day. “Well, you two better not have too much fun.”

I stepped past her, letting her into the bathroom. “No promises.”

She laughed a little, and then closed the door.

I headed back into Matt’s room, and shoved my airplane clothes into a side-pocket in my suitcase.

“Um, do you have a spare outlet where I can charge my phone?” I asked.

Why was I so scared of MJ’s family?

He nodded, and pointed at his desk in the corner. “There’s a power bar over behind the lamp.”

“Thanks.”

I plugged my laptop and phone in, and then zipped myself into my sleeping bag. A moment later, Matt turned off the lights, and climbed into his bed.

The silence was…unbearably awkward. Maybe it was worse for me, because I could hear Rhea and Marcy’s muffled voices, two rooms over, and I could hear the water running in the bathroom, and I could hear Matt’s breathing, shallow and restless, and it all somehow highlighted the fact that Matt and I were both laying here, awake, and not speaking.

And I was so focused on the fact that neither of us were speaking, that I missed what Matt said when he finally broke the silence.

“Sorry, what?”

“Why did MJ ask you to come with us?” Matt asked, sounding tired and a little annoyed.

I hesitated. “I don’t know. She never said.”

“When did she ask you?”

“Last weekend, the day after he died.”

“Hm.” Matt shifted, the blankets rustling as he did. “She didn’t tell us until yesterday.”

“Oh.”

“Did she go see you or Brad? The day our dad died.”

“Um, she came over to my apartment. Why?”

“Oh, no reason,” he said.

“Did she tell you she was with Brad?”

“She didn’t say. She came in, and sat down with us, and told us that she’d broken up with him. I thought she was at his place, and that was why, but then she asked me to put peppermint tea bags on the grocery list and said she had some with you and wanted some in the apartment.”

It was funny, I hadn’t even looked at the teabag she handed me last weekend, and barely noticed the smell when I poured the tea, even though I hated peppermint tea. But the second Matt said it, I remembered that whole interaction in HD, including hugging her goodbye and smelling mint and salt, and wanting to kiss her but knowing I couldn’t.

“Anyways,” Matt continued, pulling me out of my train of thought, “it’s not a big deal, I was just curious.”

“Yeah. Makes sense.”

It was quiet for a moment, and then Matt sat up, looking at me.

“Did you also hate Brad?”

I sat up, too. “Yeah, why?”

“I just…never got good vibes off of him. I figured you or Liz or someone would’ve said something to her.”

“Yeah. Maybe we should’ve.”

He shrugged. “She got out of it fine.”

“I guess.”

He looked at me weird, and then laid back down. “I’m sure if anything got out of line, you would’ve called an Avenger to kick his ass.”

I chuckled. “Almost definitely.”

I laid down, and the silence felt more comfortable. Slowly, I drifted off.

**MJ**

We spent the next day doing the mundane things that have to be done after someone dies. We wrote his obituary, and cancelled his cards, and unsubscribed from his magazine subscriptions, and made sure everything was organized for the funeral tomorrow.

And it took the whole day.

You would think that after a full twelve hours of making phone calls and running errands, I’d be exhausted. And I was. But I was also wired.

Finally, after we all had a very awkward family dinner, complete with a screaming match between Matt and Janie that we all pretended not to hear from five feet away, I went upstairs and took a shower, and got ready for bed. I left the bathroom door open as I was scrunching product into my hair, and Peter came in to brush his teeth.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, before he started to brush.

I shook my head. “I’m exhausted but I also feel wide and loopy-wake.”

He gave me a weird look. I realized I wasn’t speaking very coherently.

“Loopy and wide awake,” I said. “That’s what I meant.”

I wiped leave-in conditioner off my hands, and then grabbed some gel and started to pump some into my hands.

“You really do need to sleep,” he mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste. “You’ve been up since six and it’s ten.”

I nodded, scrunching the gel into my hair. “I know, I’m just…anxious.”

“Anxious about…?”

“I don’t know.” I flipped my hair over to the other side. “Hearing Matt and Janie go back and forth over his tuition wasn’t fun. I’m worried I missed something with all of the tasks we had today. I don’t wanna go to the funeral and see people I don’t know who probably know who I am.” I rinsed the gel off my hands, and scrunched my hair with an old t-shirt to dry it. “It’ll be fine, I just…can’t calm myself down.”

“Why don’t we watch a movie or something?” he suggested, barely audible through the toothpaste.

“I don’t wanna keep you up.”

He spat into the sink and rinsed, and then said softly, “If one of us has the ability to stay up and recover quickly, it’s me. All I need is coffee and a protein bar and I’m good. You, however, will feel like crap and you know it.”

“And look like it,” I grumbled, standing up again and trying to find a dry spot on the t-shirt to finish drying my hair.

“You never look bad.”

He said it so off-hand, like it was obvious, that I didn’t catch it for a second. I did a double-take, looking at him as he drank some water.

“What?” he asked.

I shook it off. “Nothing. Thank you.”

He cracked a smile. “I’ll go set up a movie. Should I invite Matt and Rhea and Marcy?”

“Yeah, sure. We can probably go down to the basement. Ask Matt.”

He gave me a thumbs-up, and I pressed my lips together to stop from smiling.

 _Dork_.

I brushed my teeth, rinsed, and then headed out of the bathroom.

“We’re going downstairs for the movie,” Rhea said, coming out of her room with a fuzzy blanket around her shoulders. “Do you want a blanket, too?”

“Yes, please.”

“Peter has the other one,” she responded, smirking. She turned and started heading towards the basement.

_What a little shit._

I followed her downstairs. When we got to the home theatre, Matt and Peter were debating which Star Wars movie was the best, and Marcy was setting up a movie.

Luckily, Peter had abandoned his fuzzy blanket on the couch, so I stole it, and got comfy at the end of the couch while Matt tried to tell Peter that the prequels were good.

They’re not.

Eventually, Peter caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye, and stopped mid-sentence.

“That’s my blanket.”

“Mhm.”

“And you stole it.”

“Very observant of you, tiger.”

He crossed his arms. “Can I have it back?”

“You can pry it out of my cold, dead hands.”

Rhea and Marcy were bundled up next to each other on the couch, each in their own blanket.

“Did you want one of ours?” Rhea offered.

It was a trap.

“Please,” Peter said.

“Oh, I don’t know if I can give mine up. Marcy’s a blanket hog, and it’s cold down here.”

Marcy nodded earnestly.

Peter sighed. “Alright, start the movie.”

“What are we watching?” I asked.

Matt sat down on the floor, leaning against the couch in front of the twins. “Mamma Mia.”

Peter sat next to me, and I lifted my blanket for him. He raised an eyebrow.

“You can either share with me, or freeze. Up to you.”

He got under the blanket.

Rhea and Marcy exchanged a look, suppressing smiles. I ignored it.

“Start the movie.”

Marcy hit play.

I think the music kept us up. Marcy for sure almost fell asleep a few times, but she was so committed to singing along that she didn’t. Rhea was dancing in her seat during every musical number, along with Matt. Peter was singing under his breath, glancing over at me nervously every once in a while.

When the movie was over, Marcy went up to bed, but Matt and Rhea and Peter and I were still wide awake. Peter suggested a board game, and Matt found a game of Monopoly and pulled it out.

We picked our pieces, and Rhea decided to be our banker, and we started to play. Peter immediately landed his ass in jail, and proceeded to whine about it until he bailed himself out.

I managed to get Broadway, and Matt managed to snag Park Place. The rest of the game became about trying to obtain each other’s dark blue property, while Peter and Rhea just wanted the railroads and utilities.

Later in the game, once I had a couple monopolies and some extra properties, I landed in jail. I had a get out of jail free card, but I didn’t use it. Peter and Rhea and Matt all groaned as I refused to bail myself out, and then they landed on my properties and owed me money.

I was raking it in, hand over fist.

Rhea bankrupted first, and passed off her banking duties to Matt before she went upstairs.

Matt sold Park Place to Peter, right before he went bankrupt, and he went upstairs too.

I finally bailed myself out, and Peter and I played fair and square until I was finally too tired, and forfeited.

As we packed up the game, Peter said, “You think you’ll be able to fall asleep?”

“I could pass out right here.”

He laughed. “Go ahead, I’ll carry you up.”

I watched him, as he sorted out the different coloured bills and put them away.

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me.”

I blinked, and handed him the lid for the box. “I’m just sleepy.”

He put the box away. “Well, it’s well past your bedtime.”

I punched his shoulder lightly. “I’m not a kid. I’m older than you.”

“By, like, two months.”

“Still older than you.”

He sighed. “Alright. Come on, let’s go.” He grabbed my blanket, and we turned off the lights and headed upstairs.

When we got up to the hallway, he almost opened Matt’s door, and then hesitated.

“What?”

“He’s asleep.”

I frowned. “What?”

“I can hear his heartrate. It’s slower than usual.”

“That’s…can you always hear that?” I whispered.

He nodded. “How does he fall asleep that fast?”

I checked my phone. “It’s been, like, twenty minutes. It takes most people fifteen minutes to fall asleep.”

“Fair.”

“Do you wanna just stay in my room?” I offered. “So you don’t wake him? He’s a light sleeper.” He wasn’t. I didn’t know why I said that.

Peter hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve shared a bed with you before-”

“I meant, like, will your mom get mad?”

“She hasn’t checked on us so far.”

He was still frozen, so I grabbed his arm and pulled him into my room.

“No funny business,” I teased, climbing into bed.

He rolled his eyes at me, shaking his head, and crawled into bed next to me.

“You’re feeling okay?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“You’ll tell me if you’re not?”

I nodded again. “Yeah.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Probably not.”

He smiled. “Goodnight, Em.”

“Goodnight.”

I rolled over, and the second I closed my eyes, I was out like a light.

\---

I woke up, in the morning, to my phone’s alarm, labelled “funeral time, get up and look sad”.

Oh, how I loved tired MJ.

I realized Peter was spooning me as we slept. As he stirred, the arm he’d draped over me pulled away.

“Morning,” he mumbled, in the world’s most adorable morning voice.

“Morning.” I sat up and stretched. “Ready to look sad in public?”

He chuckled a little. “Always.”

I rolled out of bed, and found my black dress for the funeral. It was an old one, with lace sleeves and a pleated skirt. Not something I would normally wear now, but it was my only black dress, so it was funeral attire for today.

“I’ve never seen you wear a dress,” Peter remarked, yawning.

“Yeah, you have.”

“When?”

“When Liz and Betty and I went clubbing. We were getting ready in the bathroom and you came in to _subtly_ let Liz know you’d be patrolling.”

He snorted. “Is that when you figured it out?”

“No. I pieced it together a few weeks after that, I think.”

He got out of bed. “I don’t know how I ever thought I could get anything past you.”

“You didn’t realize what kind of journalist you were fucking.”

He laughed. “No, no I did not.”

\---

We all got ready, had some brunch and then piled into Janie’s car and headed to the funeral home. We were there early, all five of us hanging out on a bench at the back while Janie argued with the staff because the cala lilies looked too droopy.

“She’s such a Karen,” Rhea muttered.

“I’m so glad we’re out of there,” Marcy agreed.

Eventually, people started to arrive, so we all made our way to the front of the hall, taking our seats on a bench.

The funeral director stood up and started to speak about Darren, about his impact on the community, the tragedy that was his early passing, the legacy he’s left behind, and on and on and on. I zoned out, staring at the closed casket.

Everything the director was saying about his children was a lie. He didn’t mention Darren and Janie driving their children out of the house, he didn’t mention them giving me up for adoption, he didn’t mention Darren cutting Matt out of the will, none of it.

I was furious, but I was also really sad, because the community-oriented, kind family man the director was describing was exactly what I had hoped Darren would have been.

Tears welled in my eyes, and spilled over onto my cheeks. Peter slipped his hand into mine and squeezed. Janie looked over, from the other side of the bench, and glared daggers at me.

When the director opened it up for eulogies, Janie went up and started to speak.

“Darren, my husband, was the kindest man I could’ve hoped for. He was generous, he was supportive, he stood by our kids through thick and thin, even their…rebellious phases.”

I scoffed to myself. Fortunately, Janie didn’t notice.

She kept talking, breaking down into tears a couple of times and then pulling herself together.

After her eulogy, she stepped down, and then looked at the twins.

“Go. Say something for your dad.”

They looked panicked, like deers in the headlights, and froze in their seats.

“Go!”

Rhea stood up, and went up on her own.

And she gave a eulogy. It was also utter bullshit, but you could see her shaking, terrified of her mother. She mentioned the way it had us all distraught, and how none of us had the emotional capacity to stand up and give a eulogy, so she was up there representing all of Darren’s children.

Janie was fuming in her seat, but she couldn’t say anything. Rhea had covered Marcy and Matt’s asses.

A few of Darren’s co-workers gave eulogies, and then we moved on to the receiving line.

Janie made all of us, except for Peter, stand with her. Peter was told, “Mingle, or do whatever, just as long as you don’t look like family.”

I gave him an apologetic look as Janie grabbed my arm and pulled me up with her.

People started to come up, offer condolences, and introduce themselves to me. It wasn’t a big deal at first, I’d just thank them for coming and they’d move on to Janie or the kids.

But them one of Darren’s cousins approached.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, giving me a quizzical look, “but I don’t…I don’t recognize you.”

“Oh, um, I was…given up for adoption.”

He blinked, and tilted his head.

Janie laughed, too loud, too abrasively. “That’s Michelle, always joking around. She’s our oldest.”

The cousin shook his head. “No, no, Matt’s always been the oldest.”

Matt and the twins were panicking.

“Oh, Rob, you’re getting old.”

“No, no, now that you mention it, I remember,” he said. “You must be, what, twenty-six?”

“Twenty-five,” I told him.

“Ah, yes, that sounds right. I always thought Darren was kidding about that, because he mentioned it once and never again-”

“Well,” Janie interrupted, “we appreciate you coming to offer you condolences, but it’s time to get to the church for the burial service.”

“Jan-”

“Sorry, everyone,” she said to the rest of the line. As they dispersed, slow and confused, she grabbed my wrist tight. “Let’s go,” she hissed to me.

“Ow!” I tried to pull her hand off of me as she squeezed tighter. “Let go-”

“Michelle Jones, if you so much as suggest that you were an accidental pregnancy-”

“Let go of me!”

“You’re causing a scene-”

I yanked my arm away, and she slapped me. Hard.

My hand flew to my cheek and I took a stumbling step back.

When I looked up, Peter was between her and I.

“Don’t touch her.”

The people in the receiving line were now a crowd, staring at Janie as she started to scream at Peter.

I don’t even remember all the terrible things she said. My ears were ringing, my cheek was hot with stinging pain, and I was too distracted by the murmurs from the small crowd and the way Rhea and Marcy and Matt were flinching at every sharp syllable from Janie’s mouth.

Peter stopped taking it after about a minute, and led the five of us out of the funeral home.

We sat out, in the chilly late fall air, waiting for an Uber to come pick us up.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked.

I didn’t answer. “Let’s get back to the house, pack up, and head to a hotel for the night. I don’t ever wanna see that bitch again.”

“That’s…fair.”

I looked at Matt, who was pacing, kicking pebbles off the sideway and onto the road. Rhea and Marcy were sitting together on the neighbouring bench, huddled for warmth. “You guys can stay for the burial.”

They shook their heads.

“No way,” Rhea said. “Not after that.”

I touched my cheek again. It still felt hot. “At least she didn’t have a ring on her hand.”

Matt snorted.

\---

We got back to the house, packed, Ubered to a hotel nearby, and booked a room for the night.

Unfortunately, it was a relatively busy hotel, and the only room they had was two queen beds.

It was whatever. We got our room keys, and headed up to the room.

Marcy and Rhea claimed one bed, and Peter offered to sleep on the floor, which left Matt and I in the other bed.

We dumped our stuff, and went downstairs, to the restaurant in the hotel. We had dinner, I had a glass of wine, ate some incredibly rich chocolate lava cakes, and Peter and Matt paid when I left the table for two minutes to go to the bathroom.

Jerks.

We went back upstairs and started getting ready for bed. The twins and I used the bathroom first, changing out of our funeral clothes and doing our skincare routines and brushing our teeth. Then Matt took a quick shower, and Peter went last to change and brush his teeth.

Peter laid on the floor, using a couple of extra blankets and pillows the hotel had given us, between the two beds. I was laying on the bed, closest to Peter, my back to Matt.

And I tried to sleep, but my brain was buzzing.

I listened as Matt’s breath evened out and slowed down, and then listened to the twins, but they were definitely already asleep.

My brain wouldn’t slow down to let me drift off. I kept thinking about Janie’s anger radiating off of her, about the way Rhea shook during her eulogy, about the way the funeral director’s script was full of lies, likely curated by Janie herself.

I could still feel her hand hit my face, open palm and stinging like a bitch.

Leaning over the edge of the bed, I looked at Peter. He shifted and looked up at me.

“What?” he whispered.

“Did I wake you up?” I asked, my voice even quieter than his.

He shook his head. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Do you wanna take a shower?”

He frowned, and then sniffed himself.

“No, dumbass, with me.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

I stifled a laugh, and slid out of bed, careful not to wake Matt. Peter stood and followed me into the bathroom. He closed the door gently behind us, while I turned on the fan and the water. I turned around and started to lift my shirt. Peter’s hands landed on my waist as I threw the shirt across the bathroom.

“You’re sure?” he breathed.

I grabbed the front of his shirt in a fist, and pulled him towards me hard, kissing him.

It was a terrible thought, but the second our lips met, I realized I would’ve rather been fucking him instead of Brad.

We pulled each other’s clothes off, and got into the shower.

He pushed me up against the shower wall and kissed my neck, his hand making it’s way up my thigh, teasing me.

“Peter,” I sighed, “please.”

He kissed under my ear. “Are you asking nicely?”

“Yes.”

“Ask one more time for me, Em.”

“Please,” I breathed, reaching for his wrist.

He let me guide his hand, and his fingers started to glide right over my clit, and I shuddered just a little, craving more.

“I don’t wanna go slow,” he admitted softly.

“So don’t.”

His free hand moved up my body, from my waist to my neck, and squeezed. I grasped his wrist, mostly so I could pull his hand away if I needed to, but also because something about his hands and forearms was hot.

He circled my clit faster, and kissed me. For the most part, his body was shielding me from the showerhead, but he shifted to angle his hand better, and moved a little to the side, and hot water started to hit me. I moaned against his lips, and felt them curl into a smile.

“Shut up,” I mumbled.

He fully broke the kiss, and held eye contact while he choked me harder and pushed his fingers into me. I was slick enough that his fingers eased in without much resistance.

And, fuck, he felt so much better than I remembered.

His fingers curled in just the right way, hitting my g-spot. My back arched off the tile and I gasped silently, trying to keep quiet so my siblings didn’t hear us.

“Good girl,” he breathed.

He pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, fingers pressing into my g-spot harder each time. His palm was rubbing against my clit. I could feel the heat building in my stomach, but it was building too slow, and I was desperate.

“Can- Peter, can you- _fuck_ -”

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, leaning in and whispering directly in my ear.

“Please.” My voice was barely a pathetic whimper.

He pulled his hand away, and lifted me by my hips. I wrapped my legs around him. Peter pushed me against the wall, lined himself up, and pulled my hips down onto him, slowly sinking his cock into me.

Pressing kisses to my neck, he started to thrust.

I let my head fall away, and gripped his shoulder with one hand and my other hand landed on his back.

He felt so good, filling me up, stretching my walls just a little, slow strokes angled just right to graze against my g-spot.

“How’s that?”

“So good. You feel _so_ good.”

He thrusted in a little faster. “You feel amazing.”

I readjusted my legs around him, pulling myself closer to him, forcing him in deeper.

It gave him a little more control, and he managed to let go of my hips and still keep me pinned against the wall. One free hand went to my clit, the other around my neck.

“Quiet,” he reminded me.

And then he squeezed his hand around my neck, circled my clit, and started thrusting harder and faster.

My eyes drifted shut, and fingers dug into his skin, no doubt leaving half circle marks from my nails.

He felt amazing. Every movement was perfect, making electric shocks of pure pleasure zip up my spine. Each stroke was harder and faster than the last, hitting my g-spot more and more directly as he shifted his angle. His fingers on my clit were moving just right.

We had been going at it for a matter of a few minutes, and I was already so close to the edge. My back was arching off the tile, and I was gasping soundlessly, barely refraining from moaning.

“Faster,” I panted, “please. So- so close.”

He obliged, speeding up his thrusts, and I found myself dragging my nails over expanses of smooth, wet skin, probably close to drawing blood. But, fuck it, he would heal almost instantly, and I was too lost in pleasure to care.

“Cum for me.”

His cock drove right into my g-spot, hard and fast, and his fingers were pressed into my clit, rhythmic circles becoming more and more desperate.

And I tipped over the edge.

My whole body seized, his name was a whimpered chant, spilling from my lips before I could stop it.

He kept thrusting through my orgasm, and pulled out just as I started to come down from the high, fingers still massaging my clit.

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t wanna cum in you.”

“It’s- it’s okay. Thanks.”

He held me while I caught my breath, and then slowly let me down, letting me lean on him when my legs shook and started to give out.

“I missed that,” I admitted.

He let out a breathy laugh, turning off the water. “Yeah, me too.”

We got out of the shower, and before I could even grab a towel, he lifted me by the hips, again, and sat me on the counter.

“Peter-”

He knelt, and pushed my knees apart, before kissing up my thighs.

What was I gonna do, say no?

The rest of my body was cold, from going from a hot shower to the cold bathroom air, but his mouth was warm, and that was all I could focus on.

His tongue lapped at my clit, feather-light and slow, and his fingers eased into me, slipping in without any of the resistance from before.

I grabbed his hair in a fist, tugging, urging him to go faster.

Why did I ever give this up?

He licked faster, curling his fingers into my g-spot. My head fell back, lips parted.

I thought he’d tease me, or at least refuse to let me cum too fast, but suddenly he was sucking hard on my clit and pressing his fingers hard against the sweet spot, and I came without warning, slapping a hand over my mouth before I could cry out. He kept licking and fingering as my orgasm seized my muscles, and didn’t slow down until I gently pushed his head away, panting.

He was grinning as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, standing up.

“Shut up.”

He kissed me, hard, a certain appendage resting against my thigh, and I was reminded that he had made me cum twice before I’d made him cum once. I reached between us and starting stroking his cock.

“Em.”

“You want me to use my mouth?” I asked, lips brushing against his.

He nodded, and I slid myself off the counter and knelt on the tile, cool against my knees. I licked at his balls, at the base of his cock, still stroking with my hand. His hands found their way into my hair.

I used as much saliva as I could, licking his dick up and down a few times before wrapping a second hand around him, using both to stroke and twist as I sucked on the tip.

“Oh, fuck,” he mumbled, gently pushing my head.

I took more of him in my mouth, looking up at him, licking and sucking hard. It only took a few moments before he was warning me.

“Em, I’m- so close.”

I kept going, using more saliva, and within a few seconds, he was shooting hot cum into my mouth.

I swallowed, and kept sucking until I’d sucked him dry, and then pulled away.

He gave me a lopsided smile as I stood up, wiping drool off my face.

“I’m so glad you and Brad broke up,” he teased.

I snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Get dressed, tiger.”

We dried off ourselves and the bathroom, and redressed, and went back to bed.

Luckily, we hadn’t woken anyone, evident by the twins’ even breathing, and Matt’s soft snores.

I slid back into bed, and Peter got comfy on the floor.

He must’ve tired me out, because I was out cold in a few moments, and didn’t dream at all.


	17. daises are the worst flower

**Peter**

Our plane touched down in New York after dark, and I went with MJ and her siblings to their apartment. I ordered some dinner while the four of them unpacked. Our Chinese arrived as MJ was putting their luggage away in the back of the closet, so we all sat down in the living room to eat.

Everyone seemed exhausted and downtrodden. The kids were yawning, and MJ was quiet, so I found myself trying to make jokes to lighten the mood. It worked on Marcy, but Matt and Rhea were far too tired, and MJ was seemingly focused on just eating her noodles and ginger beef.

Rhea was the first to shower and change, and then Matt. Once Rhea was in her bunk bed, I gave up on trying to lighten the mood. It was the end of the night, and it had been a rough weekend. I couldn’t make everyone laugh tonight, I guess.

Matt went to bed next, settling in on the couch, and then Marcy in her bunk bed. MJ and I quietly cleaned up, and put leftovers away. It was silent between us, and the kitchen was dimly lit as we tried to let her siblings sleep.

“Do you work in the morning?” she whispered, reaching behind me to toss some chopsticks in the recycling.

“No.”

“Can you stay?” she asked.

Her eyes were remarkably sparkly, given the low light, and her lower lip was quivering, and I couldn’t say no even if I wanted to.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

She nodded, giving me a half smile, and then disappeared into the bathroom.

I pulled my suitcase into her bedroom and changed, and when she came out of the bathroom, I went in to brush my teeth.

Even while I was in the bathroom, I could hear her start to cry. I finished up, rinsed, and went back into her room.

She was laying in her bed, curled on her side, shoulders shaking.

“Hey.” I approached her, and knelt next to the bed, brushing hair out of her face. “Do you need anything? Water?”

She shook her head. “Can you just, like, lay with me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

I crawled into the bed with her, and she turned into me, crying onto my chest. I rubbed her back and played with her hair.

“I hate him,” she admitted, between sobs and sniffles.

“Your birth dad?”

She nodded.

I squeezed her a little tighter. “It’s okay to hate him. You know that right?”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Why do you hate him?”

She sniffled. “Because he wasn’t what I thought he’d be, and now he’s gone. And he’ll never be a good dad.”

I turned onto my side and she snuggled in closer, burying her face.

“I’m sorry, Em.”

“It’s okay,” she mumbled.

She cried for another few minutes before falling asleep.

**MJ**

I woke up to the sound of knocking on the front door. Loud knocking. And then whispers and footsteps.

_That’s weird._

I got out of bed, rubbing my eyes, and padded out of my room, only to see Marcy letting Brad into the apartment, holding a bouquet of flowers. Daisies, to be precise. Marcy saw me and froze, barely remembering to close the door behind him.

For a moment, I was convinced I was still dreaming. But the floor was cold beneath my feet.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. My voice sounded gravelly.

He held the flowers out and I crossed my arms. He cleared his throat. “Um, I owe you an apology.”

“Go ahead.”

He swallowed, and glanced behind me. I turned and saw Matt and Rhea staring him down.

“I, um, I said a lot of things that I…shouldn’t have, like the, uh, jailbait thing. And the thing about your dad. And I-”

I heard my bedroom door open, and turned in time to see Peter emerge, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Brad stopped in his tracks.

“Peter slept over?” Rhea whispered behind me.

“I guess,” Matt responded.

Peter seemed to realize what he’d walked in on. “I’m sorry, am- am I interrupting?”

“Yeah,” Brad answered, before I could say anything. “Did you two sleep together?”

“We got in late last night,” I said. “He stayed over.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “Right. Obviously. This makes sense now. You were cheating on me.”

“Whoa, that’s not-”

I cut Peter off. “If you’re asking if he stayed over to fuck last night, he didn’t. We didn’t. And he didn’t come with us to my father’s funeral as my partner, he came as a friend. I don’t think you’re in a place to ask questions, seeing as how this is the most time you’ve deigned to spend in the same room as Matt and Rhea and Marcy.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he snapped.

“You wanna beg for forgiveness? You wanna ask me to get back together with you? You’re gonna need to at least show a little understanding when I turn to someone reliable and _not fucking creepy_ when-”

“Prove it,” Brad said.

I blinked, staring him down. “I’m sorry, why am I proving anything to you?”

“If you want me to reconsider this-”

I stepped forwards, and grabbed the bouquet from him, then crossed to the window, opened it, and tossed it.

Then I turned around and stared at him once again.

“You can leave the way you came in, or you can follow the daisies. Up to you.”

He shook his head. “Psycho bitch.”

“Fucking _out_ ,” Matt growled, standing.

Marcy opened the door for him, and he scoffed one more time before he left. She slammed the door shut behind him.

Peter turned and went back into my room.

Marcy finally piped up. “MJ, I’m-” 

“We’ll talk about it in a second,” I told her, following Peter. “You’re not in trouble, just…give me a minute.”

I closed my bedroom door behind me and turned to Peter, who was pulling on a fresh shirt and shoving his pajamas into his suitcase. “I’m sorry about…that whole mess.”

“Were you considering it?” he asked.

“What? No.”

“It sounded like you were.”

“What?”

“You just…I don’t know, I was expecting you to kick him out the second you saw him.”

I hesitated. “I-I was going to.”

“Do you actually like him?” Peter asked. His tone was somewhere between accusatory and hurt.

“Brad? No. He’s an asshole.”

“Why would Marcy let him in if-”

“I don’t know why- Why are you-”

“Why did you invite me to Colorado?” He zipped up his suitcase and looked at me, waiting.

“I wanted you there.”

He sighed. “Right.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t want me there,” he said, “you wanted emotional support. It had nothing to do with me.”

“That’s not- well, I- I wanted you there, but yeah, I wanted emotional support. It wasn’t a fun weekend getaway, Peter, you _knew_ that-”

“What I’m asking, Em, is if you wanted Brad to know I was with you. To make him jealous.”

I could feel pressure building behind my nose, the familiar tingle before your eyes well with tears and you break down crying. “Is that really something you think I’d do?”

“Why didn’t you ask Liz?”

“B-because you and I are closer- I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

“There’s something you can ask Liz,” he muttered. “I’ll see you later.”

Instinctively, I stepped aside, and let him leave my room, and say goodbye to my siblings, and waited until the front door closed behind him to let out my breath.

I wanted to break down and cry, but Marcy had looked terrified in the same way that Rhea had giving the eulogy, so I took a deep breath and stepped out of my room.

“I’m so sorry,” Marcy blurted, “he buzzed us and said he had something for you and I assumed it was something you left at his place, and I didn’t think to tell him to leave it with the doorman or anything, and I didn’t know he was gonna-”

“It’s okay,” I told her. “Take a breath. It’s fine. I don’t really care.”

“What happened with Peter?” Rhea asked.

I turned around. “What do you mean?”

“We heard you guys. It sounded like you were arguing.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what it was about. He just…it doesn’t matter. Let’s just get breakfast.”

Matt and Rhea exchanged a look, but they got up and got ready.

The four of us went to get bagels, and then Marcy and Rhea went in for the afternoon at school. Matt and I stayed in the apartment, him in the living room watching TV, and me in my bedroom, under the covers, wondering what I did wrong to drive Peter off like that.

**Peter**

I walked into an empty apartment, and spent my afternoon unpacking, threw in a load of laundry, and did some dishes that were left in the sink.

I couldn’t tell you why I’d acted like that with MJ. There was something about the way she’d acted that felt off.

Maybe it was naïve, but I had almost expected a day in with her, laying in bed until noon, ordering breakfast in from the IHOP a few blocks away, relaxing after that tense weekend.

As I scrubbed burnt cheese off of a saucepan (note to self: remind Harry to make his grilled cheese on the non-stick pan next time), I wondered if maybe I’d expected too much of her. She’d broken up with Brad right before the trip, and the thing in the shower wasn’t out of the ordinary. It wasn’t a promise, or a confession, it was just sex.

I was the fucking asshole that expected a reward for being a good friend while she was struggling with the death of her father.

But god, I was confused. Why would she ask me to go in the first place? Why did she ask me to stay in her room the second night? Why did she ask me to stay with her again last night? Why did she fall asleep in my arms like that, holding onto me like she loved me, if she didn’t?

Because she needed a friend on that trip. Not a boyfriend. Just someone reliable and not creepy, and I ticked those boxes. I was a convenience.

And I can’t even be mad at her. Or, at least, I shouldn’t have been. None of it was about me, it was about her. It should’ve been about her, and I made it about me.

 _Dick move, Peter_.

Liz and Harry got in from work in the evening, and the three of us went out to the bar for a drink. I didn’t tell them what had happened. Liz didn’t ask any questions, so I figured MJ hadn’t told her anything.

I laid awake the whole night, typing out apology texts to MJ and deleting them.

She wasn’t going to forgive me, the same way she wasn’t going to forgive Brad, and I couldn’t blame her. I made her voice wobble and her eyes tear up and then I left.

I sent a text to May instead.

_Me: can I come over for dinner tonight_

Finally, I was able to drift off, only for my alarm to go off half an hour later.

I dragged myself out of bed, drank two mugs of coffee before Liz finished her first, showered, got dressed, and checked my phone before I left for work, half-hoping there’d be a text from MJ waiting for me.

_May: Of course! Pizza or the usual?_

_Me: Thai :)_

_May: I can arrange that!_


	18. tell you my sins

**Peter**

May and I got comfy on her couch, takeout boxes and chopsticks in hand. She was still telling me about her day, the office politics, Happy’s flower delivery at lunch. I was more than happy to listen.

Part of me was glad to hear work was good and her relationship with Happy was still going strong, part of me was glad to be able to get through most of my pad thai while she talked, and part of me was just relieved that she didn’t immediately ask me what was wrong.

She got to the end of her story, and dug into her food with her chopsticks, fumbling at first and then orienting them properly.

“So, what brings you over? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to see you, but usually coming over for dinner means something happened. Wait, did you and Jess get back together? You know I love you, Peter, and I’ll support you no matter what, but I really thing she’s bad news-”

“We didn’t get back together.”

“Oh, thank god.”

“I, um, I actually met someone else.” I poked at the last few morsels of noodle in the box.

“Is this someone new, or is it the girl you met over the summer? Her name started with…with an M, right?”

Half-surprised she remembered, I nodded. “MJ.”

May smiled. “Do you want more pad thai? I bought extra.”

I opened my mouth to turn it down, and then gave in. “Yeah, thanks, May.”

“Of course, honey.”

She took my takeout box and went to the kitchen. “She was the one you went to Colorado with?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did it go?”

“Really well.” A lump formed in my throat just thinking about it. “Well, it was…it was shitty, because her birth dad had died and her birth mom was being really awful. We…we ended up skipping the burial and packing and spent the last night in a hotel.”

She returned and handed me the second order of pad thai. “Birth parents?”

“She’s adopted. Her parents had her really young, and gave her up, and she ended up in foster care for a while and then got adopted, and she’s pretty close to her adoptive parents. She didn’t even know where her birth parents lived until they contacted her a couple of months ago.”

“Mhm. So, it sounds like it was a really emotionally… charged trip.”

“Yeah.” I took a bite of my food. “And, I mean, I knew that going in. She didn’t get along with them when she first visited them in September, and then her younger siblings were so mistreated that she just…took them in. So it was the first time her siblings had been back to Colorado since running away, and she had only met her dad the one time and she was going to his funeral, and her mom was really angry and kind of abusive.”

May looked slightly amused.

“What?”

“Why’d you say it was really good?”

I could feel my cheeks warm. “I just…felt really close to her. I don’t know. She fell asleep on my shoulder on both flights. She asked me to stay with her the night we got back.”

“Ah, I see. You thought it was a good weekend because you thought you were getting somewhere.”

I briefly thought about the hotel shower, and then shook that off. “I guess. I feel like that makes me an asshole, though.”

May sighed. “I don’t think you have to in you to be an asshole, honey.”

She was wrong, because she didn’t know about the way I’d reacted after Brad came over, but I felt way too ashamed of myself to admit that I’d gotten mad at her for even speaking with Brad, and then accused her of using me to get back at him.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I looked up from my food. “I just…I messed it up. For no reason.”

May nodded, pressing her lips together. “Do you remember when you first got the Stark Internship? How I knew you were sneaking out of the house, and Tony was hiding something from me, and when I finally walked in on you in the suit, I freaked out?”

I snorted. “Yeah. I think that’s burned into my brain.”

She laughed. “I taught you a whole new class of curses that night. And I had never been that angry with you.”

I kept eating, thankful for a break from talking.

“My point is, Peter, is that I was angry because I was scared. I didn’t know what was going on with you, and when I finally found out, I was hurt that you’d never trusted me enough to tell me.”

“And you thought I was gonna get myself killed.”

She tilted her head and gave me a look. “Don’t think that I stopped worrying because you moved out. Anyways, anyways, I got over it. It’s hard to stay mad at someone you love.”

“But there’s a difference between you and MJ.”

“She loves you, Peter. Whether it’s in the way you love her, or in the way I love you, I don’t know. But if she took you with her for such a difficult weekend for her, she loves you. And if she loves you that much, she can’t stay mad at you.”

I finished off the last couple bites of my pad thai. “I don’t like it when you make sense.”

“Oh, come on, that’s why you ask me and not Harry.”

“I thought you liked Harry!”

“I do, I do. He’s grown up. I just wouldn’t go to him for advice.”

Despite myself, I smiled. “Yeah, no, not for anything except evading paparazzi.”

**MJ**

I lost track of time at work, putting together the pieces for an article on a new bylaw the city was trying to pass. Before I knew it, Miles was traipsing into the office, McDonald’s in hand.

“Oh, shoot, I’m sorry,” I said, already standing. “I didn’t realize it was already half past.”

He nudged me with an elbow. “I’m sure I can forgive you. Break room?”

I nodded.

He led the way to the break room, having crashed my lunch hour more times than either of us could count, and he unpacked the bag, pulling out drinks and chicken nuggets.

“You’re the best,” I told him, as he handed me my sauces.

“I know, I know.”

“Okay, you have to catch me up before I get started, because that’ll take up the rest of my lunch hour.”

He snorted. “Fair enough.”

Miles caught me up on everything that happened since our last lunch. He’d met a girl at the bar, took her out twice, only to find out she was married with a kid. His parents were getting along again, which was good news after a couple divorce threats. The bar had finally given him a raise. One of his murals was getting a ton of media attention (in part because of an article I’d written about it) and he was starting to get organizations reaching out to him for more political pieces. Things were good.

When he turned it back to me, I caught him up on how my siblings were. Rhea and Marcy had made friends at Midtown, and their grades were really good. They had a competition in a week and a half for academic decathlon, and both of them were doing really well with prep despite the trip to Colorado and grieving Darren’s death. Matt was applying for scholarships and transfers so he could continue classes in January. He was doing well at work, likely because he was trying to charm his cute manager into a date.

And then I had to tell him about the trip itself. I told him about breaking up with Brad right before, and then asking Peter to go with me. I talked about the flights, and falling asleep on Peter’s shoulder. I talked about my birth mother, and how she’d gotten mad over every little thing she could. I told him about the funeral, and about Rhea’s anxious eulogy, about Janie slapping me, about Peter getting in between us. I told him about the night at the hotel.

I told him about the night we got back to New York, and Peter trying to cheer us up, and then staying with me while I cried myself to sleep. Then I got to the morning after, with Brad showing up with daisies, and Peter and I’s argument.

When I was finally done, there were five minutes left in my lunch hour. Miles was finishing off his fries, and frowning at the table thoughtfully.

“I have one question.”

“Just one?”

“Well, to start.”

“Okay, go for it.”

“Did Brad really never know you hate daisies?”

I shook my head. “He never asked.”

Miles shrugged. “You shouldn’t be surprised. He wasn’t a fan of asking your thoughts on things.”

I laughed. “No, no he wasn’t.”

I put my garbage in the big bag, and Miles got up and threw it out.

“Okay,” he said, as he sat back down, taking another sip of his milkshake, “I have more questions.”

“I figured.”

“Well, no, not a question. You like Peter.”

I couldn’t _deny_ it, but I didn’t exactly like admitting it.

“Aw, you’re blushing! I knew it!”

“Oh, shut up.”

Miles laughed. “Let me be happy for you. I was starting to think you’d never actually like anyone.”

“And at this rate, I don’t think I wanna _like_ anyone again.”

He rolled his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell him you like him?”

“I wanted to, back in August, but he wasn’t ready for a relationship. I still don’t know if he is. And it’s not like I’m great at the whole emotional vulnerability thing.”

“You’ve cried in front of him more times than you’ve cried in front of me. Also, why don’t you just ask Liz what’s going on? Didn’t he tell you to ask Liz?”

That was…a very good point. I opened my mouth to respond, but then my boss walked by the break room and glared at me through a window.

“Shit, I gotta get back to work.”

I drank the last of my milkshake and threw it out.

“Text me later, okay?” Miles said. “I’m invested.”

I rolled my eyes, but nodded as I opened the break room door for him. “Same time next week?”

“Maybe five minutes earlier,” he teased, before heading out.

I sat back down at my desk, pulled my article-in-progress back up, and kept working.

\---

The whole afternoon at work, I thought about what Miles had said. And while I didn’t know if I could talk to Peter, I did know I could talk to Liz. So, when I got home, I texted her, and asked what she was doing. She said she was free, so we decided to go to the bar.

Marcy took a break from studying for decathlon to help me pick out an outfit, and then I was off, leaving them with some pizza money.

I got to the bar, and Miles stopped me before letting me in. “You’re not just going to the bar to drink your problems away, right, Jones?”

“No, _mother_ , I’m meeting Liz.”

“Alright, alright, sheesh. I’m just looking out for you. Go on in.”

“Thank you, Morales.”

I headed in, and Liz was already at the bar, leaning over to show off some cleavage and batting her eyelashes at the very much male bartender. She saw me and smiled, and then turned back to him, just as he poured her a drink and slid it across to her.

“Thank you.” She stood up straighter, taking a sip. “You can put it on my tab-”

The bartender’s eyes darted between her smile and her chest, and he smiled. “That’s alright. First one’s on the house.” He turned to me. “Can I get you anything, miss?”

“Nothing special,” I said, “just a vodka cran, please.”

He grinned. “You got it.”

I leaned on the counter next to Liz. “When did you get here?”

“Like, a minute before you walked in. Harry and Peter weren’t in so I didn’t have two boys asking me a whole bunch of questions.”

I laughed. “Fair enough. I had to leave money and the pizzeria’s number for my sisters.”

The bartender handed me my drink, giving me the same once-over and smile he’d given Liz. “This one’s also on the house,” he assured me.

I smiled, taking my drink. “Thank you.”

Liz and I found a table near the back of the bar, and settled in.

“So,” she asked, “what’s up with you and Peter?”

“Wh- did he tell you?”

“No, but he’s got that kicked puppy, moping around thing going on since you guys got back.”

I took a breath and told her what had happened with Brad, and what Peter had said to me. It didn’t take as long as when I’d explained it to Miles, but I was still tired of the sound of my own voice by the time I was done.

“-so he just left. And I haven’t heard from him since.”

She nodded. “That…well, a lot more makes sense now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he had dinner with May last night. They spend a fair amount of time together, like he’ll make appearances as you-know-who whenever she organizes a charity event, and she takes him to the farmer’s market on the weekends sometimes. But dinner with May usually means something’s wrong. When he mentioned he was going for dinner with her, I thought there was something wrong on _her_ end, but…I guess not.”

“That’s lovely insight, Liz, but that doesn’t tell me what’s wrong. I still have no idea where that little outburst came from.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but a group of girls filed into the bar, most of them wearing pink, and one wearing a white top and a veil.

Bachelorette party.

They started screaming and cheering, and the whole bar picked up on that energy. People started to get up and dance, and bartender turned up the music.

Liz and I looked at each other, and then chugged the rest of our drinks.

“My place?” she shouted over the noise.

I nodded, and we headed out, dropping tips for the bartender as we passed by.

We walked back to the apartment, and continued talking.

**Peter**

It wasn’t exactly the advice May had given me, but I didn’t yet know how to talk to MJ. In the meantime, I’d ended up at Gwen’s place after work.

We had started on her couch, talking and drinking wine, but now our glasses were sitting empty on her coffee table, and she was kneeling in front of me, slowly taking my dick in her mouth.

I let my head fall back against the cushions, and soaked in the way she was licking and sucking and stroking.

My mind started to wander, and I thought about the hotel in Colorado, and MJ kneeling on cold bathroom tile, her eyes meeting mine with my hands in her hair and cock in her mouth. She was hot, and felt so, so good, and I wanted to finish in her mouth all over again.

“MJ,” I sighed.

She pulled away, and I opened my eyes, suddenly remembering I wasn’t with MJ.

Gwen narrowed her eyes at me. “Who’s MJ?” She wiped at her mouth and sat back on her heels.

“I-I’m- that’s- I didn’t mean-”

“Who’s MJ?” she repeated.

 _Shit_.

“Just…a friend.” That was the lamest, most un-assuring thing I could’ve possibly said, and I winced as I said it.

“Alright, well, I think we’re done here,” she said, standing up, taking the glasses to the kitchen.

I stood up, tucking myself back into my boxers and zipping my fly back up. “I- Gwen, I didn’t mean to-”

“I wasn’t just in this to be a placeholder for someone you actually wanted,” she snapped.

I stared at her, feeling my stomach turn with guilt. “I didn’t think you…”

“That I thought you might be a good guy? That I might wanna turn this into something exclusive?”

 _Ouch_.

“I- I didn’t know any of that. You didn’t say anything,” I said softly.

She just glared at me, so I gave up. I grabbed my jacket, and started to head out.

“I’m sorry.”

Gwen didn’t say anything, so I just nodded and closed the door behind myself.

It was a long walk back to the apartment, and it was a little chilly, but I didn’t feel like hailing a taxi and making small talk with a driver. So I braved the chill and the distance, and started walking.

Liz and Harry had been right about Gwen, and I had denied it so I could feel okay about casually hooking up with her.

MJ had leaned on me for support because her dad died, and I took that to mean she wanted a relationship, and got mad when she didn’t immediately kick Brad out when he came over without her knowledge.

I had imagined MJ to the point of saying her name during an encounter with Gwen, knowing what Liz and Harry had said about Gwen liking me and ignoring it for convenience’s sake.

It was official. I was the world’s biggest asshole.

The guilt and shame was bubbling in my stomach, making me tired and glum.

I walked past MJ’s building on my way home, and for a moment I considered stopping and talking to her and begging for forgiveness, but I could just imagine her snapping at me the way she had at Brad, and I wasn’t brave enough for that tonight.

The bar was loud tonight, and individual voices were distinguishable from the patrons inside, although I couldn’t eavesdrop from across the street. It was overwhelming, so I picked up the pace, just trying to get home and lay down.

I finally got into the building, and stood in the elevator for a moment, reveling in the silence for a moment before I hit the button for my floor.

The worst part of the whole thing was that I was still turned on, my mind still drifting back to the hotel bathroom if I didn’t keep myself distracted.

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out, walking down the hallway to the apartment. As I got closer, I could pick out Liz’s voice.

Relief washed over me at the thought of sitting down with her and talking about the disaster of an evening, and I opened the door, ready to start venting to her and Harry, but Harry wasn’t on the couch.

MJ was.

I froze, for just a moment, hyper-aware of the silence that filled the apartment. Liz had stopped midsentence, and was glancing between me and MJ. MJ and I were just…watching each other.

“Sorry,” I muttered, taking off my coat and hanging it up, “don’t let me interrupt.”

I could feel the girls’ eyes on me as I went into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

_Me: you guys can keep talking, I’ll put in earphones_

_Liz: is everything alright? you sure you don’t wanna join us?_

I didn’t answer, just dug through my nightstand drawer for my noise-cancelling headphones, and laid down to listen to a podcast. There was plenty to catch up on.

**MJ**

I winced as Peter’s door closed, and then turned back to Liz. She was frowning.

“What was-”

Her phone pinged on the table, interrupting her thought. She picked it up and typed something, frowning, then stared at her screen for a moment, then back to Peter’s door.

“I wonder what that was about.”

I gave her a look. “Really? You have to wonder?”

“MJ, that’s not- he’s not acting like that because of you.”

“Are you sure? Because that was not the behaviour of someone who says-”

“You’re catastrophizing.”

“No, I’m not-”

“Do you think I would lie to you about that?” she asked gently. “He told me he was really into you, and apparently he told Harry long before he told me, and clearly that hasn’t changed.”

I stared into my glass, and drank the last dregs of wine.

Liz kept trying to convince me. “I’m serious. I have never seen him talk about someone the way he talks about you. Not even Jess.”

I sighed. “I’m just gonna head home. You guys can hang out. I’ll…I don’t know, I’ll think about it.”

“Alright.” She nodded. “Yeah, okay, get some rest. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks.”

She took my empty glass, and gave me a hug before I left.

The walk home just made me feel like crap, although maybe that was the three drinks on a relatively empty stomach.

I got in and went straight to the bathroom for a shower, then to bed, ignoring the sounds of Matt quizzing Rhea and Marcy, mumbling through mouthfuls of pizza and curly fries. 


	19. nothing left to prove

**MJ**

“You never told us what happened with Peter,” Matt said, deciding that was his version of “good morning.”

“Seriously, dude?” I asked, easing my spatula under a pancake. “I’m making you breakfast before nine on a Saturday, and you’re asking me about Peter?”

Matt was making coffee, Rhea was in the shower, and Marcy was taking out the trash and getting the mail. He shrugged, pouring coffee grounds into the filter. “I’m just curious. You two were so close, and that was such a short argument. Did something happen?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what did you argue about?”

“I really don’t-”

“We can’t help you if-”

“It’s not your job to help me-”

“It wasn’t your job to help us, but you did.”

I sighed, flipping the pancake. “That’s different.”

The percolator started brewing the coffee, and Matt opened the cupboard.

“There’s only one mug. Is the dishwasher clean?”

“Did you run it last night?”

A guilty look passed over his face. “I don’t remember,” he lied.

“Check.”

He opened the dishwasher, and shook his head.

“Alright, well, run it now, and then I’ll just have my coffee iced, so you can put it in a glass.”

“We’re out of clean glasses, too.”

I sighed. “Okay, maybe handwash a few mugs, and then I’ll buy some more.”

He pulled out a couple mugs and put them in the sink, and started scrubbing at the dried hot chocolate that coated the mugs from our movie night yesterday.

I made a few more pancakes, and Matt made our coffees. Rhea came out of the bathroom, still scrunching her hair with a t-shirt, and Marcy returned with the mail, sorting out the flyers and coupon from bills.

When we were all sitting around the coffee table, Matt decided to bring up Peter again.

“So, when are you gonna tell us what you and Peter argued about?”

“What are you, a cop?” I teased.

“Oh, yeah, he hasn’t been around at all since we got back,” Marcy said. She took a sip of her coffee, and scrunched her nose. “Can I put more sweetener in it?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” I told her. “You don’t have to ask, I’m not your dietician.”

She got up and went to the kitchen.

“It had to be pretty bad for you two to stop hanging out,” Rhea remarked. “You were practically joined at the hip that whole trip.”

“We were not joined at the hip.”

“No, of course not,” Matt agreed. “Just your face to his shoulder.”

I glared at him. “I’ll poison your syrup.”

“If you poison my syrup, I don’t have to deal with school,” he retorted.

“He makes a good point,” Marcy said, returning with her coffee. “Also, Matt, I don’t know how you’re drinking your coffee black.”

“You don’t drink coffee for the taste, you drink it for the caffeine.”

“You’re letting MJ distract you from the topic at hand,” Rhea interjected. Damn my smart little sister.

Marcy and Matt turned their attention back to me, and I took another bite of my pancake.

“These turned out fluffier than last time. Maybe we should just always make them from scratch.”

“Will you just tell us what the argument was about?” Matt took another sip of his coffee, looking kind of annoyed.

“It’s not your job to fix my friendships.”

Rhea and Marcy scoffed in unison.

“That’s not a friendship,” Rhea said.

“Yeah, he slept in your room twice, and the one time he could’ve just gone to his own apartment,” Marcy added.

“It’s not not a friendship unless we’ve talked about it not being a friendship,” I argued weakly. “Listen, it’s just-”

Matt crossed his arms. “Are you saying you and Peter have the sort of friendship where it’s _normal_ to share a bed?”

_Well, fuck._

“Ooh, she’s blushing.” Marcy grinned.

“That’s a yes,” Rhea added.

“Okay, okay, that’s… that’s none of your business.”

“It’s only none of our business because none of us have heard anything through the walls yet.”

“Rhea!”

She smirked at me while she sipped at her coffee. “Are you gonna tell us what you guys argued about or do I have to start asking questions about your sex life instead?”

I sighed, chewing some pancake dejectedly. “Fine. Fine. You win.”

Despite the way my chest tightened when I thought about it, I recapped the argument, which then meant I had to recap what Liz had said the other night about how Peter liked me, but never made a move because of Brad. By the time I was done with the story, Matt was done his pancakes and getting more, and Rhea and Marcy were almost out of telepathic looks to exchange.

“So, you went out with Brad because you liked Peter but he wasn’t ready for a relationship and you wanted to get over it,” Matt clarified, pouring syrup over his pancakes and returning to the living room.

“Yep.”

“And he liked you but didn’t make a move because right when he was ready to ask you out, you started dating Brad.”

“Correct.”

Rhea was flopped backwards, head and arms on the couch. Marcy had her face buried in her hands, elbows propped on the coffee table.

“You guys are a mess,” Rhea groaned.

“Like, getting off of the plane, running to the other because traffic is too bad, kiss in the rain, rom-com level mess,” Marcy agreed.

“Are we gonna ignore the fact that he was an absolute dick in that argument?” Matt asked, cutting up his pancakes. “Like, if you’re gonna agree to go with a friend to a funeral, you gotta accept that you’re there as moral support.”

“Also, we didn’t know Brad would come back to the apartment,” Marcy added, “and I certainly didn’t know Peter stayed over-”

Rhea sat up. “So how would it be about making Brad jealous?”

“Exactly!” Matt said, “If we give him the benefit of the doubt, sure, he was probably just insecure and upset, but it was still a dick move.”

“I feel like he’ll end up apologizing, though.”

Rhea gave her twin a weird look. “Marce, you’re a hopeless romantic, of course you think he’ll make some magical romantic gesture and apologize and win MJ back.”

“No, I can see it,” Matt argued. “Peter seemed like a really good guy, and it’s obvious he’s head over heels for MJ.”

“Well, yeah, that’s obvious,” Rhea said. “Have you seen the way he looks at her? Just because he likes her doesn’t mean he can set aside, like, ego, you know?”

Marcy rolled her eyes. “I know that. I just think he’s the type that could. And Liz said he was with his aunt because he was upset, right?”

“Oh yeah! Do you think the aunt would’ve told him to apologize?”

“I mean, probably.” Matt finished off his pancakes. “I think that’s a mother figure thing, right?”

I gave up on trying to get in on the conversation about my own love life, and picked up all the dirty dishes and went to the kitchen, rinsing off dishes and leaving them in the sink before I returned to the conversation.

“Have you guys deliberated enough?” I asked.

Rhea waved me off, and they got back into it.

I did some cleaning, sorted out some laundry and threw in a load, and got a couple of emails finished before the three of them summoned me back into the living room.

“Alright, we’ve come to a decision,” Rhea announced, holding a hand up to shush Matt and Marcy.

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re going to text him and ask him how he is, but in like a really concerned way and it’ll make him feel guilty and then he’ll apologize.”

I frowned. “First of all, he’s not gonna buy that. Second, did you learn that trick from Janie?”

Rhea stared at me blankly for a second, and then threw her arms up in defeat. “Well, I’ve lost. Marcy?”

Did they decide to pitch ideas to me like this is an episode of Shark Tank?

Nerds.

“Okay, I think you should text him like nothing happened and ask him if he and Liz and Harry wanna go to the bar tonight, and see what he says.”

Rhea gave her a little side-eye, but didn’t say anything.

“Hold on, I don’t think he’ll even answer if I text him,” I said, “I might have to ask Liz instead.”

“No, no no no. You gotta text him directly. You told him you were closer to him, right?”

Rhea groaned and covered her eyes, leaning back against the couch again. “I hate it, but she has a point.”

“That feels passive-aggressive,” Matt complained. “I say you just go to his place and ask him if he’s cooled off and wants to talk.”

“Okay,” I said, “why don’t I text him, and if he doesn’t answer by this evening, I’ll go over and ask him what’s up?”

Rhea perked up. “That’s a good middle ground.”

I pulled out my phone and texted him.

_Me: hey are you and liz and harry free tonight?_

_Me: we haven’t been to the bar in a while_

I waited for the typing bubble to pop up, but nothing.

“Alright, it’s sent.” I tucked my phone in my pocket. “Can you guys unpack and reload the dishwasher while I get some stuff done?”

They groaned, but all got up and went to the kitchen anyways.

“Thank you.”

They each grumbled some variation of “no problem” as they started to put the dishes away.

I went back into my room, and got a couple more emails done and sent off. There were a few, ahem, adult toys that a company wanted to send me to review as part of the column, and my boss was pushing to expand the column, which meant more work but also a better paycheque. I signed a couple forms, and sent them back to Jameson, and then went through the submissions I’d received and picked out some to answer for the week.

Once my ‘homework’ for the day was done, I left my room, only to realize Matt was gone.

“Where’d Matt go?” I asked.

Rhea barely glanced up from her laptop. “The cute manager asked him to come in at the last minute. I’ve never seen him move so fast.”

“Hey, are we doing anything for Thanksgiving?” Marcy asked. “They planned the decathlon competition for the Friday afterwards, so Rhea and I were wondering if we could head out the day before and get settled in the hotel early and then we’ll get the extra sleep.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine. Why’d they plan the competition for Black Friday?”

“It’s sponsored by a mall,” Rhea said, “so we all get an allowance to do some Black Friday shopping.”

“We get more if we win, obviously, but either way I’m happy.”

“Wait, you guys are gonna be in a big mall during Black Friday? Best case scenario, you’ll get trampled.” Worst case...

Marcy shook her head. “They’re closing it for a couple hours while we shop, so it’ll be fine.”

I snorted. “Alright, yeah, you guys can head out the night before. You might have to get Matt to drive you, because I might go see my adoptive parents, but- we don’t have a car, do we?”

They both shook their heads.

“Alright, well, I’ll ask my parents if we can borrow their car.”

The twins exchanged a look.

“They’d let you borrow a car?” Rhea asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, I used to steal it all the time for road trips. As long as you take it through the car wash on the way back, it’ll be fine.”

“Do they know about us?” Marcy looked nervous.

“Of course.” When that didn’t seem to calm her nerves, I continued, “Maybe we’ll all go over for Christmas, and you guys can meet them. Honestly, you’d love them, and they’d love you guys.”

That seemed to cheer her up, but before she could enthusiastically agree, Rhea said, “We’ll think about it.”

\---

The rest of the day passed without a response from Peter, but I let it go. I wasn’t about to push it. Marcy and Rhea weren’t pleased about it, but I told them I was too tired to walk over there and have some heated discussion, and they seemed to think it was best to stop beating the dead horse for today.

Matt got in, and the two of us quizzed the girls on their decathlon material, over chicken nuggets and fries and milkshakes that Matt had brought home from work.

The next few days seemed to go like that. We’d sit around the coffee table at dinner, quizzing the twins, and before bed they’d all ask me about Peter, and if I’d heard anything from him or Liz or Harry, and if I was planning on going over to talk to him. The answer was always no to all of the above.

Thursday morning, Matt and I took the train out to my parent’s place. They met him, and handed him the keys to the minivan, reminding him to gas it up and wash it before he brought it back. He left, heading back to the apartment to pick up the girls, and I stayed with my parents, helping my mom cook, and playing chess with my dad when there was nothing for me to do in the kitchen.

“Do you need anything?” Dad asked, while he was contemplating his next move.

“Well, it’d be nice if you stopped killing my pawns.”

“I meant, like, with your siblings. Money for groceries, Metro passes, anything?” He settled on a move, and his bishop landed directly in the way of my knight.

That had to be a trap.

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m about to get a raise at work, and Matt’s very responsible. He’s been working and giving me half his paycheque to help with bills.”

“Are you sure, Mish?”

I nodded, moving a rook into place, ready to defend my knight once I killed the bishop. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He failed to notice the rook's straight path towards his bishop, and moved a pawn, so I moved my knight and killed his bishop.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t even notice you were there.”

I snorted. “Have you been to the eye doctor recently, Dad?”

He frowned and took off his glasses to breathe on them, fogging them up, and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt. “I guess not.”

My mom called me into the kitchen, and I helped her pull the last couple things out of the oven, and we set the table for dinner.

While I went to the bathroom to wash up, I heard my parents say grace quickly. I found myself smiling.

I had lucked out with the adoptive parents, if not the birth parents.

We sat down for dinner, and I stuffed myself with mashed potatoes and ham, and we managed not to talk about politics. As much as I was grateful they weren’t Republicans, I did not wanna have the AOC vs. Harris debate again.

As my dad cleared the table and started on some of the dishes, my mom and I sat in the living room with glasses of wine.

“How’s Brad, by the way?” she asked. “I haven’t heard anything about him in a minute. I was half-expecting you to bring him.”

I hesitated. “Oh. Um, we broke up.”

She frowned. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry-”

“No, no, don’t be. I’m glad we broke up. I was never super into him, and he was a jackass.”

She smiled as she sipped at her wine. “Well, I’m glad you got rid of him then. Is there anyone else you have your eye on? Just so I know to get more ham for Christmas.”

“No, no, there’s no one.”

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re lying.”

“What?”

“Who is it?”

I sighed. “His name is Peter.”

“And?”

“And I’m pissed at him, and I don’t think it’s gonna go anywhere, and that’s that.”

She sighed, and gave me that mom look. “Michelle, are you gonna punish every single boy you like?”

I was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“Every guy you dated in college. You liked them, and then you’d look for a mistake and use it as an exit. I’m not gonna pretend Brad’s the same thing, I don’t think you ever quite felt for him, but it was a pattern. Was Brad a punishment?”

I took a looooong sip of wine. “That’s…yeah. Maybe.”

“Were you punishing Peter or yourself?”

“I don’t know, Mom, you kinda just hit me with a lot.”

She laughed, and took a sip of wine. “I know you hate it when I do that but it’s efficient.”

I heard my dad stifle laughter from the kitchen.

Groaning, I admitted, “Probably me.”

“Talk me through it,” she said, shifting to get comfortable on the couch.

So, for the millionth time since we got back from Colorado, I told the story.

\---

I thought about my mom’s advice as I sat on the train back into the city. She’s talked around it a lot, but at the end of the day, she agreed with Matt.

I was never good with relationships. I stopped trying after college because I would always wake up one day and hate the person I was with. I didn’t know how to tell Peter that I really, really wanted him.

If I was being honest, I ached for him. My bed felt bigger and colder, and I found myself thinking about him as I wrote columns, and wanted to talk to him when I was alone. The amount of times I’d opened our texts and typed out something and then deleted it and put my phone away was embarrassing. The amount of times I’d woken up cuddling a pillow was more embarrassing.

And I had never felt this way. It scared me, but I wanted more so badly.

The apartment was empty for the first time in a long time. I realized I hadn’t walked in and turned on the lights since September. It was quiet and cold.

I took a shower, did a face mask, turned up the heat a little, and crawled into bed.

It was still early. I wondered if I should pull out my old sketchbook.

I opened my phone to check my list of sketch ideas, just for some inspiration, but I found myself opening my texts with Peter instead.

My last text sat there, still unread.

I typed out another text.

_Me: I’m alone in the apartment, if you’re interested in reenacting what happened in Colorado_

Backspace, backspace, backspace.

_Me: I miss fucking you_

Backspace, backspace, backspace.

_Me: I fucking miss you._

Backspace, backspace, backspace.

Phone down, lights off, staring at the ceiling until I can fall asleep.

_I fucking miss you, Peter._

Forget that. At least I beat my dad at chess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all thought this whole petermj fight thing was gonna be resolved in one chapter, you did not read the tags. i said slow burn and i meant it   
> [find my other socials here](https://caramelcaramelcaramel.carrd.co/)


	20. staring into open flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for some explicit content (wink wink nudge nudge)

**MJ**

On Friday morning, Miles drove me out to the decathlon competition in exchange for an iced coffee and a muffin, and I got there a few minutes early. I ran up to the twins right as their captain finished giving a pep talk.

“Hey!”

They turned around in shock and broke out in smiles.

“You made it!” Marcy gave me a sudden and aggressive hug that knocked the breath out of me.

“Did you think I was gonna miss it?” I asked, waving Rhea over. She reluctantly joined in the hug.

“I asked Peter if he’d come,” Marcy told me, “since he was the one that got us to sign up.”

“And?”

Rhea shook her head. “We didn’t hear anything back.”

The two hugged me tighter.

In all honesty, I was glad he didn’t show up. The yearning from last night had evolved into anger in the pit of my stomach, and I didn’t know if I could stand to look at him.

Because he knew how hard the weekend was for me. He’d been the one to joke and tease to try to cheer me up on the way there, he’d been the one to step between me and Janie when she slapped me, he’d been the one to hold me while I cried when we got back.

So why did he make it worse?

Marcy pointed out where Matt was sitting, and I went and sat next to him while we waited for the competition to start.

“Did they tell you they invited Peter?” he asked.

I nodded.

“I tried to tell them it was a-”

And then we watched as Peter Parker, dressed in an faded Midtown sweater walked in and shot a smile at the team before taking a seat, a couple rows ahead of Matt and I.

Matt must’ve caught the way I tensed and bristled, because he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” My tone had a bit more bite to it than I meant for it to, and I had to force myself not to grit my teeth.

He didn’t push it.

I stared at the back of Peter’s head, anger festering.

He couldn’t text any of us to say he’d come? He could show up here but couldn’t show up at the apartment to apologize? Are you fucking kidding me?

He had the audacity to accuse me of using him to get back at a guy I didn’t care about, of using him for simply a shoulder to cry on, and then told me I could ask Liz why he was acting weird instead of just _telling_ me like an adult. God. It’s not like _friends_ cry on each other’s shoulders or anything.

The announcers started to introduce each team, and I was barely paying attention, still thinking about all the different ways Peter had pissed me off.

Seriously, we were friends for months. And he was refusing to talk to me now over something I couldn’t even fucking control. I didn’t invite Brad over, I’d told him to lose my number. I wasn’t even the one that let him in. I didn’t ask Peter to follow me out of the room and walk in on that whole mess. And he couldn’t bother to return a text, not even to my little sisters?

Matt had to nudge me when Marcy and Rhea stepped onto the stage, and I took a break from my cranky internal monologue to clap and cheer for them. I caught Peter glancing back at me when he heard my voice, but I didn’t make eye contact.

He didn’t deserve to be acknowledged right now.

The competition began, and it was slow and boring. I don’t know why I hadn’t anticipated a bunch of high school students answering math questions being boring, but alas.

Marcy and Rhea were carrying the team, though. Every time someone hesitated, they jumped in and nailed it.

They beat the first team, and then the competition moved onto two other schools.

While those two schools competed, Marcy and Rhea came out to sit with Matt and I, smiling at Peter and earning a nod back as they passed him.

I tried not to let my annoyance show.

They sat down on the other side of Matt, and I gave them each a fist bump before the second set of teams began competing.

There was a third set of teams, and then a fourth set of teams that competed, before Midtown was called back up to compete against the winners from the second set. Once again, Marcy and Rhea carried the team, and they won by a landslide against their opponents. The next two went up, the winning teams from the third and fourth sets, and once a team one, they called a ten minute break for teams to speak with their coaches before the final bracket of the day.

“They’re all treating this so seriously,” Matt remarked, pointing out a kid from the opposing team who was drinking Gatorade and dabbing sweat from his brow.

I snorted. “Nerds.”

“Oh, come on, you totally would’ve done this if you’d ended up at one of these schools.”

“Matt, I’m a journalist, I made a career out of being a meticulous nerd.”

He laughed. “Fair enough.”

The two teams went back up onto the stage, and the last round commenced. They did a lighting round of ten questions, one-on-one with each member of the teams. Matt and I watched the scoreboard with anxiety, as Midtown stayed pretty much level with the other team, losing points with one team member and then gaining back with another.

It came down to Marcy and the last guy from the other team. Midtown was three points behind.

I mentally begged her to remember all the questions I quizzed her on, and hoped she’d remember the answers.

They started firing questions at them, and Marcy consistently hit the button first and barked out an answer, getting a green light on each one, only getting the last one wrong.

But then her opponent got it wrong, too.

Midtown was brought up nine points, and won by six.

The second it was announced, Marcy charged Rhea and hugged her, and the rest of the team glommed on.

When the group hug started to separate, Matt got up and ran down, and I followed him. I practically tackled the girls in a hug. 

“I’m so proud of you two.”

Marcy and Rhea squeezed me tighter.

The coaches were all pulled into a backroom, and when they came out, they gave their teams gift cards for the mall.

Marcy and Rhea got theirs, and came back to Matt and I, and the four of us left the auditorium and started shopping.

Marcy and Rhea immediately saw pretty dresses in a display, and started shopping for dresses for the winter formal. Matt and I followed them in, casually browsing while the girls tried on dress after dress after dress. They’d come out, show off a dress, we’d tell them whether or not we liked it, and they’d disappear into a dressing room to try on a different one.

After a few dresses, I got bored looking at sequins and tulle, and glanced across the hall, only to realize the shoe store was having a big Black Friday sale.

“Hey, I’m gonna go over there and try to find some Doc Martens,” I told Matt.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Thanks.”

I crossed the hall and ducked into the store to try to find shoes in my size, but they didn’t even have Docs in a style I liked or didn’t have.

I browsed a little more, and eventually gave up and rejoined my siblings in the dress store.

Marcy ended up picking a more simple emerald green dress, with a halter neck and a very flowy but plain skirt. Rhea picked a bright red one, with a sweetheart neckline and sequins all over the skirt.

That took up most of their gift cards, and the rest went to buying new heels to go with their new dresses.

It was getting late, and the girls were shopped out, and Matt had work the next day.

“Are we ready to go?” Matt asked, digging my parents keys out of his pocket.

“MJ still hasn’t found her Docs!” Marcy protested, despite looking exhausted.

“It’s alright, you guys go home,” I said, “I can text Miles and ask him to pick me up.”

Matt gave me a concerned look. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good. See you guys at home.”

**Peter**

Betty was one of the coaches for the Midtown team, so after they won I ran up and congratulated her.

She and I ended up talking and walking around the mall. She caught me up on her and Ned, and how well things were going, and I caught her up on the mess I had created with MJ.

“Let me get this straight,” Betty said, “MJ’s here, and her sisters invited you, and MJ herself reached out to you last week, and you still don’t think she wants anything to do with you.”

“I feel like I missed the window to apologize.”

She sighed. “Who cares? Apologize anyways. You were a dumbass, you know it, she knows it, the rest of us know it. You’re more likely to keep her friendship if you apologize sooner rather than later.”

“I saw the way she snapped at Brad when he apologized,” I argued. “I don’t think I could be on the receiving end of that.”

“But it’s not about you at this point.”

She was right. I didn’t like it, but she was.

“Look, Peter, you’re a really sweet guy, and she knows that. She’s not gonna hold one argument against you. Brad had a pattern of being a dick, _and_ she broke up with him. None of that happened with you. Just grow up and talk to her.”

As Betty spoke to me, MJ stepped out of a shoe store with a bag, and was leaning against a wall to text.

“Oh, come on, if that’s not great timing, I don’t know what is,” Betty said, elbowing me.

“I can’t just-”

“Yeah, you can. I’ll see you later.”

She turned and walked the other way, back towards the auditorium.

I swallowed, approached MJ. She glanced up as I got closer, and did a double take.

“Hey,” I said. “Can we talk?”

She scoffed, looking back down at her phone. “I’m about to head out.”

“Oh, are you waiting for the twins? I was gonna congratulate them on the win-”

“No, Matt drove them home. They got tired and I was still shopping.”

“Do you need a ride home?”

She shook her head. “I’m texting Miles.”

I hesitated. I didn’t wanna push it and end up pushing her further away.

“Listen, Em, I owe you an apology.”

She looked back up. “I don’t really wanna talk about this right now.”

Then her phone buzzed, and she glanced back down, face falling.

“Do you still have a ride home?”

Reluctantly, she shook her head.

“Do you want one? We don’t have to talk about it, I just…don’t wanna leave you stranded.”

MJ hesitated, and then nodded, pushing herself up from the wall.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, of course.”

The walk to the car was painfully quiet and awkward. I was expecting her to ask about the car, too, because it was a Stark Industries car, but she didn’t say anything. Got in silently, setting her stuff down at her feet, and then stared out the window.

Alright, fair enough.

We started driving back to Manhattan, with the radio playing softly. MJ had glanced at me when I turned it on, but didn’t say anything and just stared out the window.

The sun was starting to go down, and we were still the better part of an hour away from Manhattan. And I was worried, because I’d never known MJ to be this quiet, to radiate anger like a perfume, to stare out a window instead of rattling off weird things she’d had to write articles about.

I missed hearing her voice.

“The sunset is pretty,” I said softly, “isn’t it?”

She nodded, just barely, not even looking at me.

My stomach sank a little. I’d been avoiding her, scared of her wrath, and now it was fucked up beyond repair.

“Can I ask you something?” she asked.

I was surprised she was initiating a conversation. “Y-yeah, of course.”

“I- just, I’m confused. Why did you get so upset?”

Now she was looking at me, and her expression was somewhere between hurt and anger.

And I didn’t have a good answer.

“I…don’t know. I think I was just-just insecure.”

“About?” She sounded more angry now, and I couldn’t summon the courage to take my eyes off the road.

“I didn’t think you’d ever feel…ever feel the way I feel about you. And I guess that turned into me saying things I shouldn’t have.”

She turned, looking back out the window.

“I’m sorry, MJ. I fucked up, first by accusing you of using me, and then by ignoring you because I was scared.”

“I just don’t fucking get what I gave you to be scared of,” she snapped. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

I didn’t have anything to say for myself.

“Pull over.”

“What?”

“Pull over, stop the car.”

So I did. I turned on my hazards and pulled onto the shoulder of the highway, parking the car.

“What’s wrong?”

“I want you to look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you think I would’ve used you to get back at Brad.”

The last few rays of sunlight were dancing over her skin, making it glow golden. I thought of the day she told us about her biological family, after her first trip to Colorado, and seeing the setting sun shine on her as I climbed in through my living room window.

“I-I don’t.”

She laughed bitterly, rolling her eyes. “You know, if you had just told me how you felt before I dated Brad, I never would’ve dated him. And we could’ve avoided this whole mess.”

I stared at her for a moment. Liz had said that, but…it was different hearing MJ saying it.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know if I was ready.”

She glared at me for a moment, and then grabbed my face and kissed me.

**MJ**

I didn’t really know what I was doing. I just knew that I was angry and hurt and kissing him hard.

Somehow, I managed to hit the ignition button, and turned the car off. Peter tried to ask what I was doing, but I climbed onto him, straddling him in the small space between him and the steering wheel, and reached for the little lever on the side of the seat. It jerked all the way down, and he stared at me in shock while I pulled my top off.

“Em-”

“Either tell me you don’t want to and we can keep driving and pretend this never happened, or shut the fuck up, Peter.”

I had never seen a boy shut his mouth faster.

“Good.”

I leaned back down and kissed him, and felt his hands on my waist, trailing over my skin, tracing along the hem of my leggings. Hesitating as he did, as if he was waiting for me to stop him, he started to push them, along with my underwear, down. When I didn’t stop him, he kept pushing them down, until the fabric was gathered at my knees.

I fiddled with his jeans, managing to unbutton and unzip them without breaking the kiss, and reached into his boxers to stroke his cock, already hardening, and he scrambled to push the boxers down so they wouldn’t get in the way.

The fabric gathered at my knees was a little restrictive, so I managed to push my leggings and thong down to my ankles, and then lined myself up with Peter’s dick. He held my hips, ready to guide me, and I grabbed him by the wrists and pinned his hands down, just above his head.

“Don’t touch me unless I tell you to.”

I eased onto him, feeling myself stretch and loosen as I went. It wasn’t exactly pleasurable yet, due to a distinct lack of foreplay, but there was not a single part of me that cared. I don’t even think I wanted the pleasure of sex, I just wanted to pin him down and fuck him for the sake of dominating him.

I kept him pinned, kept kissing him, started to bounce up and down on his cock, careful not to let my ass hit the horn as I did.

He started to move his hips in time with me, which changed the angle just enough in just the right way, and I found myself moaning into his lips.

Alright, maybe I was partially motivated by the pleasure of sex with Peter.

He very quickly started to enjoy himself too much, soft groans getting louder, so I slowed down.

He whined, and pouted, and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not finishing inside of me.”

“I know, but I wasn’t about to.”

I rolled my eyes. He snapped his hips, eliciting a sharp moan from me, and almost causing me to hit my head on the roof of the car.

“Can you just let me take over?” he whined.

“No.”

He pouted again, and I melted a little more than I’d like to admit, and far more than I’d ever show on my face.

“If you make me cum while I still have you pinned, we’ll call it even.”

He frowned. “Like…the whole thing? The argument and everything?”

I nodded.

He took a deep breath, and started to snap his hips again, less force now, but steady and rhythmic. I tightened my grip on his wrists and leaned forward again, pressing my forehead to his and moaning, louder and louder with each thrust.

Had I not been so insistent on pinning his wrists, I would’ve had a palm on his stomach, just to feel his abs flex with every thrust, and my other hand in his fair, because I missed his soft curls and feeling them between my fingers.

I slid my hands up his wrists to his hands, intertwining my fingers with his and keeping his hands down against the top of the headrest.

It occurred to me that if he really wanted to, he could just flip us over. Even without the super strength, I probably couldn’t hold him down if I wanted to.

He was starting to fuck me harder and harder, cock filling me up and pulling almost all the way out with every thrust.

My body started to tense up, orgasm building, and the second he noticed he thrusted faster.

“Fuck,” I muttered, breathless, “don’t stop.”

And he didn’t. He kept it up until I cried out, electricity shooting up my spine, body seizing before my hips and thighs gave out. He pulled his hands away from mine to catch me before I fell forward onto him, and eased me off his dick.

“Apology accepted?” he panted.

I nodded. “Mhm.”

He let me catch my breath for a moment before lifting me off of him. I pulled my underwear and leggings back up, and sat back down in the passenger seat.

“Did you want me to-”

He shook his head, taking a few deep breaths and pulling his boxers and jeans back up. “I’m alright.”

He grabbed my top from where it had fallen in the back and passed it to me. I pulled it on as he readjusted his seat and started the car.

“Friends?” he asked, voice soft and hopeful.

And even though I knew we weren’t acting like two people who were ready for a relationship, it stung.

But I nodded. “Friends.”


	21. friends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait on this one!! also some explicit content warning ;)

**Peter**

The issue with trying to be just friends with your friend with benefits with whom you are very much in love is that the lines get very blurry very quickly.

As MJ and I drove back into Manhattan, we… discussed, passionately, what being friends meant for us.

“Okay, but then what is a relationship, Em, if we know how we feel and we’re still messing around-”

“The fact that we’re not calling it a relationship-”

“You don’t have to call something a duck in order for it to be a duck! If it looks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck-”

“Then we don’t have to fuck.”

I backtracked. “Okay, that’s not what I’m saying-”

“No, that’s exactly it. Maybe we put a hold on the benefits and just try to be friends until we’ve sorted our shit out a little.”

“Try to be friends?” I asked.

She sighed. “You know what I mean. Just…hang out, platonically, until the dust settles a little, so to speak. I don’t think either one of us is ready to just jump in head first into a full-on relationship.”

She was right. “Alright. Hang out platonically. You got it,” I agreed, and we drove the rest of the way home in silence.

I dropped her off at home and then called Happy. He took a cab over and picked up the company car, and I got ready for bed.

When I got out of the shower, there were a couple of texts waiting for me.

_MJ: maybe I’ll let you win tonight_

_MJ: Attachment: 1 Image_

It was cup pong.

She didn’t let me win.

\---

The first couple weeks, we didn’t hang out alone at all. Liz and Harry were there with us at the bar, or Betty and Ned would join us if I stopped by her office for lunch, or I’d come over and her siblings would be there, playing board games and watching movies with us.

However, a couple weeks into December, I got in from patrolling and changed, and decided to go down to the coffee shop to get a hot chocolate and maybe a snack, before I laid down on the couch and watched a movie. Liz and Harry were both out for the entire night; Liz planned on staying over at Betty’s for a girl’s night, and Harry planned on spending the night with a Tinder girl.

I walked down the street to the coffee shop, and saw MJ sitting closer to the back, alone at a table, reading a book and eating a croissant.

When I opened the door and the little bells rang, she glanced up and smiled.

Friends don’t get butterflies at the sight of friends smiling, do they?

I went up to the register and ordered, then sat down with MJ while I waited for my hot chocolate and muffin.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be with Liz and Betty?”

She shook her head. “The twins are at a school dance tonight, and Matt scored a date with his manager, so it’s just me in the apartment. I wanted to soak up a little bit of solitude.”

“Oh, um, I’ll let you- sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt-”

“It’s alright, Peter,” she laughed. “You can stay. I just wasn’t in a girl’s night mood.”

I nodded, pretending to understand. What the hell does that mean? Not in a ‘girl’s night mood’ but still in the mood to let me hang out with her? 

The barista called my name, and I went up to the counter to grab my to-go cup and muffin. “Thanks.”

When I went to sit back down, MJ was chewing the last bite of croissant and sticking her bookmark back in her book.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She frowned. “Did you not wanna hang out?”

“Well, yeah-”

“Cool, let’s go.”

She pulled her coat on, and we ventured out from the warmly lit café into the snowy street.

“New York is always so pretty around Christmas,” MJ said. “I mean, I kind of hate Christmas, but I’m not mad about the aesthetic.”

“Why do you hate Christmas?”

She shrugged. “It’s a pagan holiday that the church appropriated because they hated witchcraft, and Christmas music is unbearably annoying, so as much as I love getting scented candles from my mom and trading gag gifts with Miles, it’s not my favourite holiday.”

“So what is?”

“I don’t know that I really have a favourite holiday. I like Halloween, but it’s not as big a deal in the city as it was when I lived in the suburbs, and I liked the Fourth of July until I realized that fireworks are terrible and this country is kind of a racist, capitalist mess, and I like New Years but the whole resolutions thing is cheesy and weird.”

“I’m sorry, _kind of_ a racist, capitalist mess?”

She laughed. “See? You get it.”

We got to her building, and she led me inside.

“Alright, what’s your favourite holiday?” she asked.

“Halloween,” I admitted. “Mostly because it’s the one day where if I’m in the suit and fuck up, people will chalk it up to a cosplay and I don’t have to worry about the whole-”

One of the residents exited the elevator and walked by, and I trailed off.

MJ smiled at him and we stepped into the elevator.

Suddenly, the air between us felt thick and tense.

“Um, what was your favourite holiday before the spider-bite?” she asked, swallowing.

“Christmas, Hanukkah, just…. winter holidays.”

She snorted. “I don’t know how we’re friends.”

“Opposites attract?” I offered, immediately cringing once I heard it.

I tried to ignore the way her eyes flitted between my eyes and my lips.

Luckily, the doors opened before anything could happen, and we went to her apartment.

“Um, excuse the mess in the living room,” she warned, opening her door.

The mess in question was a few clothes on the floor and the bunk beds unmade.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?”

I blinked, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

She poured herself a glass of wine and pulled out a bottle of Bailey’s.

“Wanna spike your hot chocolate?” she asked.

I took the lid off my cup and handed it to her. “Yes, please.”

She smiled, and poured my hot chocolate into a mug, and spiked it before handing it back to me.

“Thanks.”

We sat down on the couch, and found a Netflix Christmas movie, and started watching and drinking and making fun of the cheesiness.

When MJ finished her wine, she got up to refill her glass. “You want another drink?”

“Uh, sure. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

I finished my hot chocolate and gave her the mug, and she took it to the kitchen. She came back a moment later with two glasses of wine, and handed me mine, and immediately groaned.

“Are they really going with mistletoe to make them kiss?”

I nodded.

She took a long sip of her wine. “That’s such a shitty way of throwing in a kiss. I mean, like, I get that they’re nervous teenagers, but still. If you wanna kiss someone, kiss them!”

If that wasn’t clear direction, I didn’t know what was.

I took a sip of wine and set my glass down.

We’d agreed on no benefits, so I couldn’t kiss her. Even though she was beautiful and very kissable and all I wanted to do was cup her face and kiss her and feel her relax against my body-

Yeah, no, it was a clear direction, so who was I not to take it?

I pulled her towards me and kissed her. Her lips, unsurprisingly, were soft and tasted like wine. Curls tickled my skin as she leaned into me, hair brushing over my face and ears and neck.

She broke away for a second, and I thought I was about to get chastised for breaking our agreement, but she set her glass down next to mine on the coffee table, and pulled me into her room.

It was different than I was used to. Slow and soft, like maybe we were scared by the lines we were crossing, or maybe it was a silent acknowledgement that it wasn’t just sex.

I snuck out in the morning, through the window, so MJ didn’t have to explain to her siblings why I was in her room.

\---

This kept happening. We’d hang out, just the two of us, have sex, and pretend nothing was happening. Because if we acknowledged it, we’d have to talk about it, and what was there to say? _Hey, I’m in love with you, but I kind of fucked it up and neither one of us should probably get into a serious relationship right now, and we also agreed not to keep fucking but we did, so maybe we’ve fucked this up beyond repair and I’ll never find love again_.

She came over on Christmas Eve, while Liz was off visiting her mom, and Harry was actually spending time with his dad, and I had just gotten back from last-minute shopping for May.

And we tried to just talk, but once we each had a drink in us, that plan went out the window.

It started with kissing her in the kitchen, whilst we were supposed to be getting snacks, and then we found our way into my bedroom, MJ laying across my bed with her legs on my shoulders.

She was warm and tight and moaning my name, and despite a relatively slow pace, I could tell she was getting close. Which was good, because I was getting close, and I didn’t wanna finish before her.

Her nails dragged over my shoulders and arms, and her cries got louder and louder, punctuated by my thrusts and the occasional, “Holy shit,” or “ _Harder!_ ”

“Cum for me,” I breathed.

Her back arched off the bed, legs tensed and straightened, and she tightened around my cock. I felt myself start to tip over the edge.

“Fuck, Em, you feel so good. I love you so much.”

She froze, legs relaxing. “What did you say?”

I blinked, and realized what I’d said out loud. “Um…”

“Peter, this isn’t a relationship or anything, you can’t say stuff like that.” She pushed me off and started dressing.

“No, no, that’s not- that’s not what I meant, MJ. I mean, like, yeah, I love you, but like we’re friends, you know? Like I meant it- I meant it as friends.”

She looked at me, her expression some mix of anger and hurt, and finished dressing. As she picked up her things to get ready to leave, I tried to get her to stop for a moment. “Em- MJ, wait. Can we just… can we talk about this? _Please?_ ”

I followed her out of my room and towards the door, and she just walked out without looking back at me.

So, now I was naked and alone in the middle of my apartment. What a fun way to spend Christmas Eve.

**MJ**

I felt so gross. I wanted to throw up, or curl up and cry, or something.

When I got home, Matt and the twins were playing a card game and eating some leftovers. They invited me to join them, but I told them I was tired and went to bed.

The shitty thing was that I loved Peter too. And I wanted to tell him, but I freaked out because can you really fall in love with someone you’re not even dating?

It was less of a question of my own feelings, and more of a question of his.

Let’s be serious. Nobody had ever fallen in love with me. What was there to fall in love with? I was not enough or too much; I had no Goldilocks zone.

And I was angry, because I had violated my own boundaries every time I got into bed with him since Black Friday. I was doing something that hurt me, but so was he.

He knew how I felt, he knew I wasn’t ready for that, he knew. And he still said it.

I didn’t sleep much, brain occupied with arguing for and against Peter, anger becoming sadness, becoming guilt, and returning to anger.

The morning came sooner rather than later, and after I gave my siblings their present (I got a Nintendo Switch for them to share), and they gave me their present (they cut out a bunch of my articles from the Daily Bugle and made a collage and framed it), we got ready and took the train to my parents’ place.

My parents had asked me about their tastes, so each of my siblings got some clothes that they actually liked, and Starbucks cards to fund caffeine addictions. Mom gave me a gift card for the art supply store close to my apartment, and Dad gave me some money in a funny card (as dads do).

The kids had brought the Switch, so they hooked it up to the TV and played Mario Kart as I helped my dad clean up the wrapping paper and packaging from gifts.

“I wish your mom and I had known about them,” Dad said, as we pulled the recycling bags out to the garage. “Not that your birth parents were going to give them up, but it would’ve been nice if we’d gotten to know them. They’re good kids.”

I smiled. “Yeah, they’re pretty great.”

He looked at me and took the bag I was carrying to put with the rest of the recycling and garbage. “You alright, Mish? You look a little down.”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.”

He frowned, but didn’t press.

We rejoined the family, only to discover my sisters and my mom battling it out on Rainbow Road. Matt was sitting behind them, drinking lemonade out of a wine glass, and laughing as they screamed at each other.

“You’re not playing with them?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’d survive.”

I watched as Mom threw a red shell at Marcy and knocked her right off the road.

“Hey!”

“All’s fair in love and war,” my mom teased, nudging her with a smile.

“Fair enough,” I told Matt. “Where’s the lemonade?”

“Big blue pitcher in the fridge.”

I nodded, and poured myself a glass. While I was in the kitchen, my dad struck up a conversation with Matt, which somehow led to him pulling out his old chess set, and asking Matt if he knew how to play. Matt shrugged and nodded, which I guess my dad took to mean that he knew the rules but not quite any strategy. I knew that to mean that Matt was going to beat my dad’s ass.

I kind of floated around, drinking lemonade, finding snacks, and watching Matt beat my dad in chess, and my mom beat my sisters in Mario Kart.

Once they finished their Mario Kart tournament, I jumped in, grabbed the fourth remote, and joined them.

We spent most of the day like that, and it was maybe the most fun I’d had on Christmas.

Mom had ordered pizza and make cinnamon buns instead of a traditional Christmas dinner, so when it came time, she stuck some pre-rolled buns into the oven, and I helped make the glaze. Matt and the twins set the table while my dad turned off the TV and put the chess set away.

We sat around the table, and my mom asked, “Do you guys say grace?”

The three of them tensed up, and my mom shook her head.

“Forget I asked. Don’t worry about it. Dig in.”

My parents each closed their eyes and bowed their heads, mentally saying grace. I was more than used to it. Matt and the twins looked at me, hesitant to start. I gave them a nod, and they picked out slices and began eating.

Dinner was easy. No fighting, no passive aggressive comments, just pleasant conversation and joking and laughing.

We watched a movie after dinner, and then took the train home. Matt was struggling not to fall asleep, the twins were still playing with the Switch.

I was mostly just watching out the window, but then my phone buzzed.

_Peter: hey_

_Peter: merry christmas, m_

I wanted to text him back, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was pissed. Again. And hurt. Again.

So I left him on read. 


	22. hit the snooze button

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my lovely [editor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorkyriebabes/pseuds/Thorkyriebabes) suggested [woke the fuck up](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=axKguLdeMEY&ab_channel=JonBellionVEVO) as the theme song for this chapter and she was absolutely right so listen to that while you read.  
> also content warning: non-graphic blood and injury mentions

**MJ**

On Boxing Day morning, Liz and Betty came over for some online shopping, because we were not in the mood to brave a mall. Marcy and Rhea were hanging out with a friend from school, and Matt was working, so it was just the three of us. We all sat in my living room, spread out with our various laptops, day-drinking and talking while we shopped.

My phone buzzed next to me.

_ Peter: m can we talk _

_ Peter: please? _

I muted him so the notifications wouldn’t come through and put my phone down.

What was there to say?  _ I’m mad at you because you told me you love me even though we agreed on nothing serious and I’m more mad at you because then you said you love me as a friend which hurt like a bitch because I love you as way more than a friend and I’m even more mad at myself for fucking you when we said we shouldn’t because obviously it couldn’t end well- _

“Hey, Earth to MJ,” Liz said, craning her neck to look at me over her laptop. “You good?”

“Hm? Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“What happened?” Betty asked. “You looked at your phone and then glared at the wall like you wanted to punch it.”

I brushed it off. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Peter being a moody mess the last couple of days, would it?” Liz asked.

“Nope.”

Liz and Betty exchanged a look, but then went back to shopping.

By the end of the day, we had each spent way too much money. Thankfully, my boss had been uncharacteristically kind and given Betty and I a decent Christmas bonus, and Liz was a lawyer so of course she had some extra cash to spend.

Betty left to go on a date with Ned, leaving Liz and I in my apartment, ordering in some dinner.

“So nothing happened with Peter?”

I shook my head.

“Because he told me that he said he loved you.”

I blinked. “Is that all he said?”

She nodded. “I get the feeling there’s a little more than that going on.”

With a sigh, I got up and topped up my drink, and then told her the story, from Black Friday until the other day on Christmas Eve.

Of all the things I’ve had to say about Peter, I hated this story. Because telling it made me wanna cry.

When I was done, Liz nodded and pursed her lips. “So, um, I’m gonna kill him-”

“Liz-”

“No, he made it sound like all that happened was he said he loves you, he conveniently left out the fact that he said it while you were in the middle of knocking boots-”

“Ew-”

“-and that he tried to make it better by saying he meant  _ as friends! _ What kind of absolute idiot-”

“Don’t tell him I told you anything.”

“Well, then, what  _ is  _ your plan?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “You’re ignoring him, you don’t want me to help out. It’s like you want it to be done.”

I hesitated, and her face fell.

“Oh.”

“I don’t know that that’s what I want. It’s just… messy. I don’t know that you can have a relationship that lasts on such a fucked-up foundation.”

“MJ, no relationship is perfect and healthy and clean-cut and simple all the time. Every relationship has some weirdness in it. And it’s not like it gets less messy if you ignore him.”

I looked at my phone. My stomach turned a little at the thought of trying to talk to Peter.

“I gotta figure out what to say to him. I don’t know.”

“Yeah, no, take your time. But you  _ have _ to talk to him. He deserves that, at the very least.”

“I know, I know.”

Liz went home shortly after, but asked me to come over the next day for a self-care night.

When Matt got home from work and the twins got home from hanging out with their friend, the four of us played some Mario Kart and had some popcorn and hot chocolate. It didn’t quite feel fulfilling. Like something was missing.

Maybe the feeling of something missing didn’t make me some bad person who didn’t appreciate her family enough, and maybe just spoke to how much I wanted Peter here, too.

\---

The next day, I went over for a spa-night/sleepover with Liz. She had robes laid out, face masks, a facial steamer, an aromatherapy diffuser, the whole nine yards. According to Liz, Harry was out with Ned, and Peter was out patrolling. I knew Peter would get in, probably before we went to bed, but I tried not to let it bother me.

We painted each other's nails and painted on some mud masks. Betty FaceTimed us for a bit, and did a sheet mask while we chatted, but she was stuck at her parent’s house, babysitting the family dog who was sick while her parents were at work. I don’t know how they managed to suck her into that as a fully independent adult, but whatever.

Betty had mentioned something about  _ Home Alone _ , and then we were debating which year it came out, so I opened my phone to look it up and prove Liz and Betty wrong, only to realize I had an unopened text.

_ Peter: so I’m not allowed to ignore you but you’re allowed to ignore me? _

“Ruh-roh,” Betty said, “MJ’s about to cut a bitch.”

I realized I was making quite an annoyed face. I didn’t mean to show any emotion on my face.  _ Oops _ .

“I’m fine.”

“Was  _ Home Alone _ 1992?” Betty asked.

“No, it’s 1990.”

“What?” Liz asked.

I quickly pulled up the Wiki and showed Liz, and she sighed.

“Dammit.”

Betty scrunched her nose and looked off camera. Her eyes widened in panic. “Um, the dog’s throwing up again, I’ll talk to you guys later.”

She hung up.

Liz turned to me. “What did Peter say?”

I started to cross my arms and defend myself, but Liz tilted her head and gave me that look. The one moms give you when they know you stole cookies out of the jar. Huffing, I showed her my phone.

She snorted. “Oh, it’s like he wants to be brutally murdered.”

“Right?”

“Alright, well, try to forget about that, and let’s go take off these masks.”

We washed our faces, then steamed our faces, which felt way better than I was expecting. And then we just watched some TV in our fluffy robes and breathed in the lavender-infused air from the diffuser.

I had just about forgotten my annoyance with Peter until I heard his window open.

Liz seemed to perk up at the noise and looked at me.

“Do you wanna just go sit in my room?”

I shook my head, annoyance barely contained. “I’ll go talk to him.”

She looked concerned, to say the least, but didn’t fight me on it.

I went into Peter’s room and saw him slowly crawling in from the fire escape.

“Hey, Peter, do you wanna talk about that last text?”

He got through the window and landed on his feet, pulling the window shut behind him. “Em-”

“No, give me a second to speak my fucking mind. What the fuck was that last text? You cannot possibly compare ignoring me after picking a fight with me to me ignoring you because you told me you loved me in the middle of sex and then tacked on ‘as a friend.’ Did you hit your head or something?”

I stared at him, arms crossed, and watched as he swayed on his feet a little, and then leaned against the wall. I realized his mask was roughed up on the left side and there was blood soaking through the right sleeve of his suit.

“Holy shit, Peter, did you hit your head?” I asked, running towards him, as his knees buckled and he slid down the wall, landing hard on his ass. I pulled his mask off. He had cuts all down the one side of his face, and his eyes looked half-glazed over. Blood trickled from an abrasion on his temple, and from his nostril.

“A little bit.”

“What does ‘a little bit’ mean?”

He glanced at his arm, the one bleeding through his suit. “Um, this… big claw thing just… it grabbed me and threw me into a building.”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, giving me a half smile. “You should see the other guy.”

“Go get in the tub, dork, I’ll get the first aid stuff.”

He started to stand, but swayed. I grabbed him before he could fall over.

“Okay, um,  _ Liz! _ ” I called. “Can you bring the first aid kit?”

“On it!” she called back, and I heard her footsteps as she rushed for the kit.

I pulled Peter into the bathroom and helped him into the tub. He hit the emblem on his chest and his suit loosened and started to slide off his left shoulder. His right shoulder was so caked in blood that it stuck, and I had to peel it away from his skin as he winced.

“Sorry,  _ sorry _ .”

Liz came in and put the first aid kit on the edge of the tub, covering her eyes the whole time to avoid the sight of blood.

“Thank you,” I said.

“No problem!” She hurried out. “Lemme know if you need anything else!”

His shoulder had three deep, oddly clean cuts that were still slowly oozing a bit of blood.

“Alright, arm up. It’s not bleeding much, but I have to make sure it stops before I bandage that up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Peter said, voice crackly and tired. He lifted his arm, bracing his elbow against the tiled wall, grimacing as he did.

“You okay?”

He nodded, clearly lying, but whatever.

There were bruises down the left side of his body, but nothing major. I opened the first aid kit and started cleaning the scrapes and cuts.

Every wince made my heart hurt, and I whispered apologies as I worked up from his ribs to his shoulder.

“Okay, I gotta clean your face. Do you need a break?”

He shook his head, the hurried way that little kids do. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

I huffed, but returned to the task at hand, dabbing the scrape on his jaw with a hydrogen peroxide-soaked cotton ball. “It’s hard not to worry about you. I mean, seriously, Peter, I love you way too much to see you like this as often as I do.”

I stopped cold in my tracks when I realized what I’d said. Shit.

Peter just snorted. “Em, this isn’t a relationship. You can’t just say stuff like that.”

His eyes were soft and sparkly, and he was smiling a little, despite the bruises and cuts and gouges in his arm.

“Shut up,” I told him, going back to cleaning the scrapes. “I can’t be mad at you when you look at me like that.”

“Well, I’m tired of you being mad at me.”

“Well, I’m tired of you pissing me off,” I retorted, although my voice had no edge to it.

There was a moment of silence, and I cleaned up the abrasion on his temple and the blood from his nose.

“You probably have a concussion.” I threw out the cotton ball. “Are your ears ringing?”

He nodded.

“How’s your vision? Blurry? Any light sensitivity?”

“Blurry. It’s always a little light sensitive.”

I looked at his eyes, the way his eyelids were drooping, as if he was ready to fall asleep. “And you’re certainly dizzy and drowsy.”

“Pfft, I could run a marathon,” he teased.

I rolled my eyes. “Lower your arm so I can clean it up and bandage you.”

He shifted and brought his arm down. I cleaned it with the hydrogen peroxide and put some ointment on, then wrapped it in a bandage and secured it with a metal clip.

“Alright, come on, let’s get you to bed. I’ll wake you up every hour to make sure you don’t die.”

Rinsing the tub and our feet of the blood before we stepped onto the floor, I helped him out of the tub and towards his bed. He waved me off when we were close to his bed.

“I can tuck myself in, don’t worry. You can go back to hanging out with Liz.”

“Okay, okay. Goodnight, tiger, I’ll see you in an hour.”

I left his room, closing the door behind me.

Liz looked at me, and I breathed in.

“Okay, girl, we need wine and I gotta tell you what just happened.”

“On it.”

\---

Liz and I stayed up another hour, before I woke Peter to make sure he was alive, and Liz and I went into her room to go to bed.

I set an alarm for another hour and tried to sleep. I didn’t get much sleep in, and the alarm woke both Liz and I. I turned it off, went to Peter’s room to wake him again, and then settled on the couch so as not to wake Liz.

Another hour passed with little sleep, and when the alarm went off again, rolled off the couch and went to Peter’s room to wake him, shivering as I did.

“Em,” he muttered, as I was leaving, “why don’t you stay?”

“That’s okay-”

“You’re cold.”

I hesitated.

“You don’t have to snuggle up to me. Just, you know, I don’t want you to be cold because of me.”

I gave in, and got into his bed, staying practically on the edge of the bed and facing away from him.

In that hour, I got a bit more sleep, but the alarm still went off, and I was still exhausted.

I rolled over and shook Peter gentle, careful to avoid his shoulder.

“Hey.”

He groaned and opened his eyes. “I’m alive.”

“Good. How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “A little bit better.”

“How’s the blurriness?”

“It’s clearing up.”

“That’s good. Go back to sleep.”

“Goodnight, Em.”

I turned back onto my side, a little closer to him than before.

Another hour passed before the alarm went off and woke both of us.

“Is this necessary?” Peter asked. “Like, if I die I die, I’m okay with that.”

“Peter, no.” I turned off the alarm and laid back down. “Who else is gonna walk the twins home from late decathlon meetings?”

“You can take the suit if I die.” He laughed lightly. “It’d look good on you.”

I glanced over at him. “Don’t talk like that. Go back to sleep.”

I turned over again and dozed off soon after.

The next alarm went off, another hour later, as scheduled, and this one didn’t wake Peter. I shut it off and then turned towards him.

“Peter. Hey,  _ Peter _ .”

I shook him a little, but he didn’t stir.

_ Oh, no. _

I got closer and checked his pulse. Still fine.

“Peter, come on.”

I shifted over again until I was right up next to him and shook him one more time. He stirred, groaning and brows furrowing.

_ Thank goodness _ .

“Hey, is it almost morning?” he asked, looking up at me.

I shook my head. “Sorry, tiger. It’ll be a couple more hours before the sun rises.”

He smiled a little at me.

“What?”

“I know I said I didn’t, but I kinda like ‘tiger’ as a nickname.”

I snorted. “Alright, you’re not on your deathbed, no need to make any crazy confessions.”

“But if I was,” he said, “that’d be it.”

I laid back down, next to him this time, staring at the ceiling. “I like Em. Nobody else calls me Em.”

He was quiet for a moment, and I almost thought he’d fallen back asleep, but then he took in a breath.

“I didn’t mean it as friends. When I said I love you.”

“I know,” I told him, looking over at him, dropping my voice to a whisper. “I didn’t mean it as friends, either.”

He grinned. “I know.”

He was beautiful right now. There was the blue tinted moonlight coming in from his window, and the healing scrapes and bruises along his face, and that smile. His eyes lit up when he smiled, and he looked so sweet and innocent.

“Go back to sleep.”

He shifted onto his side, his forehead resting against my shoulder as he settled into a different position and drifted off.

I fell asleep quickly.

The next alarm went off. It didn’t immediately wake him, but when I moved to turn it off, he stirred.

“What time is it?”

“Six.”

He stretched a little and got comfy again. “Can I snuggle with you?” he asked, eyes still closed, voice groggy and crackly. “I know I told you that you didn’t have to snuggle with me, and you don’t, but-”

“It’s fine, Peter.”

He smiled and pulled me closer, resting his head on my chest.

“Did you just want boob pillows?”

“No, but they  _ are _ nice.”

I laughed, playing with his hair. “Thanks.”

We fell back to sleep.

The next alarm went off, and the first orange and pink hues were starting to tint the sky. We watched the sunrise in silence.

**Peter**

MJ fell asleep during the sunrise, but I was feeling restless, so I got up, put on some clothes, and went to the kitchen.

As per usual, Liz was already up and making coffee.

“You look better,” she remarked.

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

She poured me a coffee and let me mix in some milk and sugar.

“So, um, did you and MJ talk things out a bit?”

I tried not to grin immediately like an idiot. I glanced back at my room, even though I could hear her well enough to know that she was still asleep.

“Well, she told me she loved me.”

Liz had been taking a sip of coffee when I said that, and coughed. “What? She said that? Out loud? To your face?”

“To be fair, I think it was an accident.”

“Oh, okay, that makes more sense. I was worried about her for a second there. Anyways, tell me everything.”

We sat on the couch and talked about the night’s events, from her cleaning my wounds and telling me she loved me in the bathtub to cuddling as we watched the sunrise.

I was careful to keep my voice down, so she wouldn’t wake up. She needed the rest after last night.

“Okay, um, that’s adorable. That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard, actually. I need to wake up Harry-”

I grabbed her arm before she could get far. “Liz, I don’t wanna fuck this up again. Don’t say anything.”

She glared at me, but gave in and sat back down. “Fine. What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know! I’m bad at this stuff!”

“Take her out, then. You’re in love with her, she’s in love with you. Take her on a date, dumbass.”

“But I- no, no, you’re right.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I sipped at my coffee. “It’s just… I didn’t think she felt the same way. Or, like, not to the same extent, I guess. It’s hard to process.”

Liz nodded. “That makes sense. But also, if you wait to make a move, you’re gonna lose her. That’s what happened before, right? With Felicia?”

With a sigh, I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Alright, well, figure out where you wanna take her on a date, and I’m gonna make some breakfast. Betty gave me her crepe recipe and I’ve been dying to try it out.”

Liz smacked me on the shoulder as she got up, and I made a weird, strangled yelp.

“Oh, god, I forgot. I’m so sorry-”

“Nope, it’s fine,” I said, pushing the sleeve of my t-shirt up and checked my bandages. “It’s just tender.”

Liz looked so guilty.

“I’m okay. I promise.”

I heard MJ move in my bedroom.

“Um, but that might’ve woken MJ.”

I hopped up and made her some coffee, and then went into my room.

She was sitting up, leaning against the wall, bathed in golden light streaming in from my window.

“Morning,” I said softly. “I brought you some coffee, and Liz is making crepes.”

MJ smiled, taking the mug from me. “Thanks.”

I crawled into the bed with her, and we both stared out the window, catching the last glimpses of orange and pink in the sky.

“You can go back to sleep.” I rubbed a hand over her back, absent-mindedly. “You probably need the rest.”

“No, I’m okay.” She looked at me. “Hey, your face looks healed. How’s your arm?”

“Uh, a little sore.”

“Mind if I take a look at it?”

I shook my head. She set her coffee down on the nightstand and started to pull the bandage apart. The cuts were now shallow and scabbed over.

“Well,” she said, “that’s not bad for a single night.”

“You look surprised.”

“I always fast you forget heal.” She blinked. “I always forget you heal fast,” she corrected. “Maybe I do need more sleep.”

“Just a little,” I laughed.

She took another sip of her coffee and put it on the nightstand.

“Hey, um, before you go back to sleep, can I ask you something?”

A look of panic flashed across her face before she composed herself. “Yeah, sure.”

“Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”

She stared at me for a half second too long, then nodded. “That sounds nice.”

“That’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes. Now snuggle with me so I can sleep well.”

I smiled, and laid down next to her, spooning her, and kissed her shoulder.

It only took me, what, six months? To ask her out properly? That’s not  _ that _ bad.

I pulled her in a little closer and shut my eyes.

I was the luckiest man alive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading guys! happy new year!!!


	23. i watched it begin again

**Peter**

I showed up at her door, a small bouquet of roses in hand, nervous to the point of nausea.

She’d already buzzed me in, she knew I was here, so I didn’t know why I was so anxious about the idea of knocking on her door.

I swallowed, trying to quell my nerves, and knocked.

Her sibling’s voices were muffled by the door, but I could make out some of it.

“Ooh, Peter’s here!” I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like Marcy.

“Be safe, use protection-” That had to be Rhea.

“Shhh! How do I look?” MJ asked, voice hushed.

“You look fine! Go answer the door!” Marcy urged.

“I’m nervous-”

“Fine,” Matt huffed, “I’ve got it.”

The door opened a moment later, and Matt looked me up at down before nodding.

“MJ’s just finishing getting ready-”

“I could hear you guys,” I admitted.

“Aw, fuck,” MJ muttered. She stepped out into the doorway. Her hair was half-up, pulled into a little cinnamon bun on top of her head, little curls loose and framing her face. She didn’t seem to have much makeup on, maybe some mascara and lip gloss, although I wasn’t going to pretend to know anything about makeup. And she had this little red dress on, with a silk tie around the waist.

I was speechless. She was so, so beautiful.

She gave me a little smile. “Hey.”

“Hi. Oh, um, these are…for you.” I held out the bouquet. “I didn’t know what kind of flowers you like, so I went with the safest option.”

She laughed a little, and took the bouquet. “Thank you, Peter.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Marcy jumped up off the couch and came towards us. “I can put those in a vase, you guys head out for dinner.”

“Oh, thanks, Marce.” MJ handed off the roses, and then stepped out into the hallway with me. “I’ll see you guys later, don’t burn the place down!”

There was a brief chorus of goodbyes, and then MJ grabbed a purse and a coat and closed the door behind herself.

“Alright, I’m ready.”

\---

Dinner was…remarkably easy. We ordered wine and food and talked and tasted each other’s meals and shared a dessert and I think I somehow fell more in love with her. Something about the candlelight made her smile seem brighter, maybe. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating.

The waitress came by as we were putting down our cutlery, having finished dessert. “Can I take the dishes?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” MJ said, leaning back to make room.

“Just the cheque?” the waitress asked.

I nodded.

“All together or separate?”

“Together,” I said.

The waitress nodded and left with the dishes.

MJ grabbed her wineglass and drank the last of it. “You know, maybe fancy wine is worth the extra money.”

“I think the fact that we just ate a big brownie with ice cream made it taste better.”

She laughed. “You might be right.”

“Might be?”

“Well, it doesn’t happen often-”

I scoffed, and she gave me this little smirk and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, fine, whatever.”

She laughed again. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of her laugh.

The waitress returned with the cheque and placed it in the middle of the table, before clearing the last of our dishes and leaving.

MJ and I reached for the cheque at the same time.

“Hey, no, I’m paying,” she said.

“No, I asked you out, I can’t let you pay.”

“You bought me flowers.”

“That’s not- Em, just let me-”

She tried to yank the cheque from my hand, underestimating my stickiness. It didn’t work, and she got visibly more frustrated.

“Peter, can you just let me pay? You always cover things.”

“I asked you out for dinner, it’d be rude if I made you pay.”

“You’re not making me pay-”

“Exactly, thank you.”

I pulled the cheque out of her hand and slipped my credit card into it.

She scowled at me from across the table. “I’m paying next time.”

“Next time?”

“Next time.”

The waitress came back with a portable terminal, and I paid, ignoring MJ’s dramatic pouting on the other end of the table. She and the waitress made some small talk while I put in my pin and the tip and waited for it to go through. It beeped, I pulled my card, and the receipt started to print.

“Alright, here’s your copy. You two have a good night.” The waitress smiled.

“You too,” MJ and I responded in unison, before looking at each other and laughing.

I helped MJ into her coat, and we headed out of the restaurant, walking back towards our street.

“Thank you for dinner.” She muttered it kind of begrudgingly, like kids do when you make them apologize.

“You’re welcome.” I reached for her hand and slipped my fingers between hers.

She glanced at our hands and then me, smiling. “You know I am going to pay the next time, right? That’s non-negotiable.”

“Okay, okay. I suppose.” When she looked away from me, I continued, “So, where are you thinking for the next date? McDonald’s?”

“Oh, fuck off,” she laughed, smacking me with her free hand. “We’re going right back into that restaurant and ordering _steaks_.”

I laughed, shoving her back a little playfully. “And you call me a dork.”

“Hey, that’s not the same thing! I’m just trying to make sure that I treat you as well as you treat me.”

And suddenly, my nose was tingling. I squeezed her hand a little tighter, maybe to confirm I wasn’t dreaming. I wasn’t going to wake up in Jess’s bed, tired of being belittled and criticized and manipulated.

I had MJ. And she loved me, _actually_ loved me.

“Thank you.”

She squeezed my hand back. “Yeah, of course. It’s the bare minimum, tiger.”

“I know.” I cleared my throat. “So, um, do you want me to walk you straight home, or do you wanna stop by my place and watch a movie?”

She hesitated. “Do you mean watch a movie, or, like, _watch a movie?”_

“Up to you.”

After a brief pause, she answered, “How about tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

“I just have to spend some time with my siblings, I feel like they’ve been out a lot and I’ve been out and I haven’t seen them much the past couple of days-”

“It’s fine, Em, we can hang out tomorrow.” I kept my tone gentle.

“I’ll get the pizza?”

I snorted. “Sure. That can count as a second date.”

She gave me a bit of a sideways glance, but dropped it.

We got to her building, and I walked her up to her door.

“I had fun,” she said softly, fidgeting with her keys.

“Me too.”

“So, I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?”

I nodded and took a breath in, trying to gather some courage. “Can I…Can I kiss you?” I asked, stepping closer a little.

“Please.”

I pulled her in, one hand on her waist, one on her neck, and kissed her. Softly, slowly.

One of her hands slid into my hair, the other landed on my chest.

It stopped my heart for a second.

I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her closer, pressing her body into mine, and she hummed against my lips.

Part of me was really mad at myself for waiting six months to ask her out, because kissing her after a date somehow felt way better than kissing her during sex. Another part of me was almost thankful I’d been an idiot, because it might not have felt this good if it had happened sooner.

The kiss slowed, and she pulled away, lips lifted at the edges, like she was stifling a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, tiger.” She unlocked her door and pushed it open.

“Goodnight, Em.”

“Goodnight.”

She closed the door, and I walked home.

**MJ**

My siblings obviously made me recap the whole date before I was allowed to go get ready for bed. Once I’d washed my face and showered and changed, I hung out with them a little. We played a couple rounds of Cards Against Humanity, and then we all retired for the night.

\---

The next day was largely spent apartment hunting, because our lease was up February 1st and I had made sure to tell my landlord we’d be moving out.

The issue was finding a place with enough bedrooms that was affordable and not in the Bronx.

It was a tricky balance.

I’d found a couple of reasonable places, sent out a couple of emails, and then gave up and decided it was time to get ready.

The problem with dating Peter was that he’d seen me in almost everything. So he knew my usual movie-watching attire wasn’t very cute or well put together, and he’d think it was weird if I showed up in something well put together. At the same time, I couldn’t go over there for a movie date in my old stained sweats, because we’d said explicitly that it was a date.

“Rhea!” I called.

She came into my room from the living room. “Yeah?”

“Can you help me pick out an outfit?”

She raised an eyebrow. “For Netflix and chill?”

“It’s not a Netflix and chill date-”

“Yes, it is.”

“Okay, maybe, but still. Help me out.”

We started going through my closet, trying to find something that was cute but not too cute and comfy but not sloppy.

Much like apartment hunting, it was another tricky balance.

Eventually, Rhea found a matching set of underwear she deemed appropriate, so I changed into that while she sorted through the rest of my clothes.

It was a lacy blue bralette with a matching thong. They were really cute and made me look a little more…voluminous. I wasn’t mad about it.

Rhea then tossed me a grey crop top and black leggings. “How’s that?”

I nodded. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know, I know. So, if you’re not home by midnight, I’m assuming we’re alright to go to bed and not call the cops?” She was crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at me.

“Yes. Shut up.”

I got dressed, gave the kids pizza money, and walked over to Peter’s.

When I got to the building, he buzzed me in, and I got into the elevator. I stared at my reflection in the mirrored doors. My hair was a bit of a mess, and my lips were chapped. I dug through my purse and found the lip gloss I wore yesterday, and decided that was better than nothing.

The doors opened, and I walked down to Peter’s door, which opened just as I was about to knock. I jumped.

“Sorry, sorry, I heard you coming down the hall.”

“Your super-hearing freaks me out sometimes,” I teased, stepping inside.

“Oh, it’s a blessing and a curse.” He shot a pointed look at Harry, who was sitting on the couch.

“Hey! We tried to be quiet!”

I looked between Harry and Peter, and concluded that it was probably a good thing I hadn’t come over last night.

“Also, hi, MJ, it’s been a hot minute.”

I nodded. “It has. Where have you been?”

He shrugged. “Busy. Out and about.”

I looked at Peter, who also shrugged.

“Anyways, um, MJ and I are gonna be in my room-”

“I know, I know. I’ll find my headphones. Have fun.”

I let Peter lead me into his room, and we settled on his bed with his laptop.

“Alright, should we order pizza before we try to pick a movie?” he asked.

“Sure.”

“Where do you wanna order from?”

“Oh, um, there’s a new place called Pizzageddon. One of my co-workers reviewed it for the paper, and he said that it was pretty good.”

Peter typed it in, and we went through the menu, debated getting pepperoni or Hawaiian, and then called and ordered a half-pepperoni, half-Hawaiian pizza.

While we were waiting for the pizza, we went through Netflix trying to decide on a movie to watch. He wasn’t in the mood for an action movie, I wasn’t in the mood for a rom-com. Unfortunately, the two genres during December are _Die Hard_ and Hallmark movies. So that ruled out 99% of what we could find.

The pizza arrived just as we settled on watching a few episodes of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ instead of a movie. I went to the door and paid the delivery guy, and brought the pizza back into the bedroom.

“You know,” Peter said, taking a slice, “it feels unfair to let you pay-”

I sighed, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“-because I eat so much more!”

“Are you going to play the Spidey card to try to convince me to let you pay for every meal we ever eat?”

He took a bite, nodding.

I took a slice. “You’re a ridiculous man.”

“It’s not gonna work, is it?”

“Nope. Start the show.”

We started off sitting, leaning lightly against each other as we ate. By the end of the first episode, we’d polished off the pizza. Between episodes, we shifted, laying across the bed, Peter spooning me.

At some point during the second episode, he moved my hair out of the way and kissed my shoulder.

I couldn’t even tell if it was romantic or sexual, because he’d kissed my shoulder yesterday morning. Either way, I wasn’t mad about it.

Jake made a dumb joke, and both of us laughed. Peter squeezed me closer and kissed my shoulder again, closer to the base of my neck this time.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying myself.

He went back to watching, but slipped his hand under my shirt, hand resting on bare skin.

I wasn’t even paying attention to the show anymore. All I could pay attention to was how close I was to him, the warmth of his hand against my skin, his breath over my shoulder, and how I could feel his dick stiffening against my ass.

Fuck it.

I closed the laptop and turned to roll on top of him, but he grabbed me by the waist and pinned me down before I could get very far.

“Ballsy,” I teased, pulling him down so I could kiss him.

It was gentle and slow for all of three seconds before he moved to kissing my neck and his hands went to my waist, fingers slipping under the waistband of my leggings and tugging them down.

I needed to get a smartwatch, just to see how much he affected my heart rate.

He stopped kissing me to pull my leggings off, and froze, staring at my underwear.

“What?”

He blinked and shook his head. “That- it’s- you look-”

I laughed and sat up enough to take off my shirt, showcasing the matching bralette.

I’m pretty sure his brain short-circuited. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, eyes flitting between my bralette and thong a few times.

“I kind of don’t wanna take them off of you,” he admitted, chuckling nervously. “Jesus, Em.”

I feigned innocence, and reached for my shirt. “Oh, okay, we don’t have to-”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said as he grabbed my wrists and pinned me down, “and you know it.”

I bit my lip to stop from grinning. “Are you gonna undress too, or…?”

\---

When I got home the next day, Rhea and Marcy were hanging out on the couch as usual, and Matt was in the kitchen, heating up leftovers.

“How was it?” Rhea asked with a smirk.

Marcy and Matt looked at me expectantly.

“It was good.”

Rhea raised an eyebrow at me. “Just good? No juicy details to disclose?”

“Is that a bruise on your shoulder?” Matt asked, reaching for my sleeve.

“Nope.” I readjusted my shirt. “It was fun. We watching some Brooklyn Nine-Nine, we ordered a pizza, we got a good night’s sleep. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go take a shower.”

As I left the room, I heard Rhea chuckle. “They totally fucked.”

“Yep.”

And then a scandalized, _“Guys!”_ from Marcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry about the wait on this one! i've been doing like 8 hours of homework a night to keep up with school (dw, i'm loving it) but that means i've been forgetting about the post schedule. my b!


	24. meet the starks (+ a parker)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter wasn't beta read, so pls excuse any lil mistakes! enjoy!!

**MJ**

I ended up at a NYE party with Harry and Liz and Peter, with a bunch of Harry’s ridiculously rich friends. Flash was here, bragging about valeting his new Audi, and Liz kept pulling me away from Peter to show me some insane water feature or ice sculpture or million-dollar artwork.

Peter finally caught up to us, as we sipped wine and stared at a sculpture that was either incredibly violent or incredibly homoerotic.

“Hey! Liz, do you mind not stealing MJ every time I turn around?”

“Oh, Peter, do you think they’re killing each other or-”

“No, they’re definitely fucking.”

Liz sighed. “I just keep seeing that as a sword-”

“I think it’s metaphorical?” I said, as Peter wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It has a hilt, but that’s definitely a dick.”

“Wait, so would that be blood?” Liz asked.

All three of us tilted our heads.

“I don’t wanna think about what it is if it’s not blood,” I concluded.

“Fair enough. I’m gonna go get a refill. Pray that Flash doesn’t hit on me,” Liz said, before ducking into the crowd.

Once she was gone, Peter leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I didn’t know if I’d ever get you alone tonight.”

“Oh, please. It’s New Years. You have a guaranteed kiss at midnight.”

He laughed. “Oh, thank goodness, what ever would I have done?”

I smacked him playfully. “Dork.”

Peter’s eyes were extra sparkly tonight, either from the fancy party lighting in this mansion, or from the two or three drinks I’d had. Either way, they were twice as captivating as usual.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked.

I blinked. “Yeah, of course.”

“So, um, I know we’d only talked about it once, months ago, and it’s different now because you were dating Brad at the time and now you and I are together and maybe that complicates things, but Mr. Stark owns a property that he said he’d let us move into fairly cheap and it’s a seven-bedroom penthouse in Queens and I just kind of need to know what you think because Liz and Harry and I have to tell our landlord tomorrow if we wanna move out by February first.” He took a deep breath and then held it, looking at me expectantly, almost like he was waiting for me to break his heart.

And I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“I- yes? Why-why is that funny?”

“Because you’re asking me to sign a lease with you but you haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend!” I teased.

“Oh!” He laughed, looking down, and then put his hands on my arms and looked me in the eye. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“You’re really not committing to the order?”

“What do you want from me?” he shouted, smiling, and I laughed. “Em! Will you be my girlfriend and also move in with me?”

Still laughing, I nodded. “Yes, tiger, of course.”

He grinned and kissed me. “No hang-ups about the penthouse?”

“Well, if we break up, you have to move out because I’m not relocating myself and my siblings.”

“Okay, fair.”

“You also have to let me know what rent is.”

“Oh, he’s not charging us rent. He’s not using the penthouse so he said he doesn’t care. We just have to pay utilities.”

“Oh, sweet, okay. Then yeah, we’re good.”

He pulled me in and hugged me. “I love you.”

I smiled, and then tucked my face into his shoulder. “I love you, too.” I squeezed him a little tighter.

After a moment, he pulled away just enough to kiss me, arms still wrapped tight around my waist.

Which was fine until I imagined how we looked, kissing in front of a violently homoerotic sculpture and started laughing against his lips.

“What- oh.” He snorted. “Let’s go find Liz and Harry.”

“Sounds good.”

I kissed him again, and then we ran off.

We obviously kissed again at midnight. Liz tried to kiss a cute girl at midnight, too, and so did Harry, but they both grabbed the same girl, so that didn’t work out.

\---

The next month was chaotic. Trying to organize moves, changing shipping addresses and billing addresses and forwarding addresses, arguing with landlords, arguing with moving companies, trying to get our hands on enough boxes for our shit, it was all a dumpster fire.

But it was worth it. Because the new place was gorgeous. Floor to ceiling windows, stainless steel appliances, spiral staircase to the second floor, huge brick fireplace. Gorgeous.

There were three bedrooms on the top floor and four on the main floor. The twins and Matt and Harry took the main floor bedrooms, because they are, and I quote, “closer to the kitchen.” Liz and Peter and I took the bedrooms on the second floor.

I had never had a bedroom this big. I had my own TV, I had a walk-in closet, I had a bathroom with a shower AND a bathtub (and not one of the combined ones, a separate shower and bathtub), and a floor-length mirror that had those little vanity lights.

The first weekend, I spent unpacking and decorating my space, trying to find a style that fit the vibe of the apartment. I eventually settled on organized chaos, because it was all I was capable of achieving, and left it at that.

We had a big dinner, all seven of us, at the end of the weekend.

“So,” Peter started, “Mr. Stark said he hooked up a little arc reactor for our energy, so don’t open the panel next to the breaker box because it will blind you for a few moments. But that means we don’t have to worry about our electricity bill.”

“Tell Tony we love him.” Liz took a sip of her wine.

“We seriously only owe him utilities? Minus electricity?” I asked. “That’s nothing for a place like this.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s also nothing for Tony. He probably won this place in a low-stakes game of Blackjack.”

“Fair point.”

Peter continued, “He also said that there’s a unit downstairs that he also owns that’s way smaller but also empty. He uses it mainly for when he’s flying people into New York for business purposes, but he said that if Matt or Marcy or Rhea wanna have a sleepover, they can use it as long as we let him know ahead of time.”

Marcy and Rhea exchanged a look.

“Nice,” Rhea muttered, maintaining a cool exterior.

“This is so cool,” Marcy blurted, not maintaining any kind of cool exterior.

“It’s feels like a heist movie where they break into an uninhabited mansion for fun,” Matt added.

I nodded. “Oh, that’s true.”

“Well, it’s ours as long as we want it,” Peter said. “Just don’t burn it down.”

“Cheers to that, bro.”

Harry raised his beer, and we all clinked glasses of various beverages, and drank.

Dinner was good, having been cooked by Liz and therefore cooked competently. Matt and the twins went to bed shortly after, and Harry and Liz went out to scope out a new neighbourhood bar for us to frequent.

I texted Miles.

_Me: I’ll let you know which bar Harry and Liz deem worthy of our patronage_

_Me: you can quit your job at the garage and start working here_

_Miles: …I’ll look into it if you buy lunch next week_

_Me: deal._

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Peter asked, starting the dishwasher.

“Sure. Living room or bedroom?”

“Your room,” he said, rather definitively. “I still haven’t gotten to see how you decorated it.”

I smiled. “Alright.”

We headed upstairs, and settled on my bed, turning on some new Netflix movie that was trending on Twitter.

Peter pulled me closer as the opening credits started to roll. “Still no hang-ups about moving in so early in the relationship?” he asked.

“Do you want there to be?”

“No, no, I’m just making sure.”

I looked at him, and he looked genuinely concerned. “Peter, we’ve known each other for more than the month we’ve been dating, I’m not worried about it. Also, we still have separate rooms, we still have roommates, it’s not like we moved into a small studio apartment and we’re gonna end up fighting over bills and the closet space.”

He sighed a little. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Do you have any hang-ups?” I asked, hitting pause on the movie and turning to face him a little more.

He shrugged. “I don’t have hang-ups about you. I don’t know, I guess I’m worried that you’re not gonna wanna stay with me long-term, but that’s a general relationship anxiety and not a moving-in anxiety.”

“Yeah, those are abandonment issues, dude. Probably from Jess.”

“That’s not- oh, yep, maybe.” He snorted. “Maybe.”

“I’m not gonna leave for no reason. And, honestly, I have to remind myself that you’re not gonna leave for no reason.”

“Of course I’m not leaving.”

“Exactly,” I said, poking him in the chest lightly. “You’re stuck with me, and I’m stuck with you, and it’s probably going to be fairly enjoyable.”

Peter laughed. “Okay, okay, I’ll take it. It doesn’t sound half-bad.”

“Aw, how romantic.” I hit play on the movie, and we cuddled up again.

A few minutes in, he kissed the top of my head. “I love you so much.”

“Yeah, I love you, too, dork. Now _shhhhh_.”

\---

We settled in pretty quickly. And my commute to work was actually shorter now, so that was good. Harry would drop me off on his way to Oscorp HQ, so our mornings quickly became about me forcing him to listen to podcasts and him forcing me to sing duets from musicals with him.

The next week passed smoothly, and when the weekend came around, I had an unusual amount of energy. I woke up early on Saturday, just in time for Liz to put the coffee pot on. She was already dressed, wearing a cute blouse and leggings, and her hair was braided.

“Morning, MJ.”

“Morning.”

“What’s the plan for today?”

I shrugged. “I was thinking I’d pull out my art supplies and maybe follow a Bob Ross video. I haven’t gotten to flex my creative muscles in a while.”

“Ooh, that sounds fun.”

“What are you up to?”

“Uh, Peter’s aunt and I were gonna go to the farmer’s market. Do you want some soy milk, by the way? I bought some, because I’m starting to suspect I’m a little lactose intolerant, and it’s kinda good.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good. You’re going to the farmer’s market with May?”

“Mhm. It used it be a little tradition of our, we’d go every Sunday, but our normal market closed, and then we were always busy or tired,” she explained, pouring me some coffee. “But there’s a good farmer’s market close to here and it’s open early on Saturdays, so we were hoping to get there and get the best pick of produce. Do you want anything while I’m out?” She handed me my coffee.

“Thanks. Oh, we’re almost out of honey. When are you heading out?”

“Uh, she should be here any-”

The intercom started to go off.

“-minute.”

Liz buzzed May in. “Oh, shit, you haven’t met her, have you?”

I shook my head. “Nope.”

“Uh, do you wanna go upstairs and I’ll tell her you’re out?”

“No, no, I wanna meet her. She’s important to Peter. I should just maybe go wake him up- no, I can’t do that, he’s exhausted. I’m just really worried about it, you know? Like, if she doesn’t like me, is my whole relationship with Peter doomed, or is it going to be weird and tense until she does maybe eventually warm up to me? What if I say something wrong? What if she just gets a bad vibe off of me? Do I have bad vibes? How do I fix my vibes?”

“Dude, just chill. You sound like Peter right now.”

“Maybe Peter’s been onto something this whole time.”

“She’s gonna love you,” Liz insisted.

There was a knock at the door.

“Welp, we’ll find out,” I responded, taking a sip of my coffee. The soy milk really was good.

Liz opened the door for May. “Good morning!”

“Hi!” she grinned and hugged Liz. “It’s been so long. You look so good!”

“Thank you,” Liz laughed. “I missed you.”

“Oh, I missed you too.” She pulled away, smiling, and then turned to me. “And you must be MJ?”

I nodded. “Sorry, I just rolled out of bed-”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to meet you. I’ve heard so much. We’ll have to have dinner, just you and Peter and I, so I can get to know you.”

I gulped a little. “For sure! I’ll, um, I’ll ask Peter when he’s up.”

“Ask him if he’s free tonight. If Liz and I hit the jackpot with all the fresh vegetables, I’ll make some stew, okay?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Alright, well, we better head out,” Liz said, “before all the good fruit is gone. I’ll see you later, MJ!”

“And I’ll hopefully see you tonight,” May added, smiling.

I smiled back. “Yeah, of course. Have fun.” _Have fun? Get it together, MJ_.

Liz grabbed her reusable bags and the two of them headed out, chatting about their grocery lists.

May was super nice, and I knew it was genuine, so why was my stomach turning?

**Peter**

I rolled out of bed just before noon, still feeling sore from some strenuous patrolling last night.

When I got downstairs, Harry was facing off Matt in Mario Kart, and MJ was sitting at the kitchen table, picking at a bowl of what looked like very soggy cereal.

“Morning, folks,” I said.

“Barely,” Harry shot back.

“Oh, shut up. If you’d had to pa- work as late as I had to, you’d be tired too.” Matt didn’t give me a glance, so I figured I’d corrected course quick enough to avoid outing myself.

MJ looked up and gave me a half-smile. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Please.”

She chuckled a little, and got up to make me a cup. But she seemed off, somehow.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

I glanced back at Harry and Matt, who were back to being deeply entrenched in Mario Kart. Turning back to MJ, I asked, “Is something wrong?”

“No, no.” She added some sugar to my coffee. “Oh, are you free tonight? May came by and I met her and she wants to have dinner.”

“That’s why you’re anxious?”

“I’m not anxious.”

I stared at her, and she sighed.

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m a little nervous to meet your aunt who obviously loves you a lot and is very protective of you and probably won’t like me and it’ll cast a curse on our relationship and we’ll be broken up by Easter. Is that what you want me to say?”

“Em, you’re catastrophizing.”

“Okay, and?”

“May’s gonna love you.”

She handed me my coffee, and then pulled her hair back into a ponytail, but didn’t tie it. “She was sweet and all, but it just felt… like I’m going to fuck it up somehow.”

“You’re not gonna fuck it up.”

“Peter, you and I spent six months fucking up because neither one of us could just say how we felt. For god’s sake, Harry called it right at the start.”

“I did!” Harry added from the living room. “I called it, I was right, I knew it.”

“Thank you, Osborn,” MJ said, still looking at me, eyes wide and concerned.

“Okay, okay.” I stepped towards her, set my coffee on the counter, and pulled her hands out of her hair so I could hold them. “May is going to love you. Do you wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I love you. Because you are witty and sweet and a little bit sarcastic a lot of the time-”

She laughed, and the anxiety seemed to start to ease.

“-and while I know that meeting parental figures is kind of anxiety-inducing, I also have a ton of faith in you.”

She smiled. “Alright, tiger, you win. I’ll go.”

“Hey,” Matt interrupted, “can you two flirt somewhere else? It’s throwing me off my game.”

“I think you’re just bad at this circuit.”

“Shut up, Osborn.”

Harry gasped. “Hey, MJ, Matt’s bullying me!”

“Just race on Rainbow Road and you can suffer together,” MJ responded.

“Does that actually work on them?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

I laughed, and then kissed her. “Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna pour some fresh cereal for both of us, we’re gonna go upstairs, we’re gonna eat the cereal and watch some TV, and then we’re gonna cuddle until dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

\---

We got to May’s house about ten minutes late, because I knew she’d be struggling with dinner so if we were on time, we’d be early. Cooking was still not her strong suit.

And I wasn’t wrong. When we arrived, the distinct smell of something burning was emanating from the kitchen. She poked her head out from around the corner.

“Hey, guys! Oh, MJ, you look fantastic. I love that blouse, where’d you get it?”

She looked down. “Oh, um, I actually thrifted this. It was, like, two bucks.”

“You’ll have to take me sometime.”

I felt MJ relax a little, the tension in her hand easing. “I’d love to!”

May smiled. “Anyways, uh, how do you feel about going out for dinner? I think the stew is a lost cause.”

The smoke alarm started going off.

“Yeah, you two head out and grab a table at the Italian place down the block and I’ll…try to prevent an evacuation.”

I laughed. “Alright, May, we’ll see you in a few.”

As MJ and I headed out, she squeezed my hand. “You were right, I had nothing to worry about.”

“Of course not, love.”

Dinner went way better than MJ expected. She and May had tons to talk about. She gave May tips on thrifting, on where to buy art supplies for a good price, and introduced her to some true crime and conspiracy podcasts. May even invited her to the farmer’s market the next weekend, so all was well.

As we were leaving, May hugged me and whispered, “You better marry that girl someday.”

\---

The issue came when Mr. Stark realized May had met MJ and he hadn’t. He came up to me at work and pulled up a chair as I was working on a suit upgrade.

“Hey, kid, I just got off the phone with your aunt.”

I frowned. “Okay?”

“When were you gonna tell me that you were at the meeting-the-family stage in your relationship? You two moved into my penthouse and you still haven’t even introduced her to me!”

“I didn’t- I’m sorry, it just- I wasn’t sure you’d-”

He chuckled. “Okay, I’m giving you a hard time. But I do wanna meet her. I gotta make sure she’s a step up from the last girl.”

“She’s nothing like Jessica.”

“I love her already. You guys free tonight? Pep is cooking, and Morgan should actually be home.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight,” Mr. Stark confirmed. “Only if you’re free, of course. If you two are busy, we can find another night.”

“I can- I’ll ask her.”

He got up, grinning. “Sounds good, Pete. Let me know, so I can let the girls know you’ll be over tonight.”

“Yep. Will do.”

He chuckled and shook his head a little before heading out of my lab.

I called MJ. She picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I just need to know if you’re free tonight.”

“I- yeah, of course I’m free. It’s a Tuesday. Nothing’s going on.”

“It’s Taco Tuesday.”

She paused. “Peter, do you think that I celebrate Taco Tuesday in a way that means I’m busy for dinner?”

“I don’t- Forget it. Can we have dinner with the Starks?”

She hesitated. It was different from the pause, it was definitely a hesitation. “I’m sorry, as in, like, Tony, Pepper, and Morgan Stark?”

“Yep.”

“Just a casual dinner.”

“Yep.”

“What’s the dress code?

“I don’t know, not naked?”

She sighed, the sound garbled by the phone. “You’re a ridiculous human being.”

“No, I know. He just wants to meet you, which is fair because you do live in his penthouse and you’re still somehow dating me-”

“Somehow?”

“-and I’m his adorable sidekick so obviously he’s gonna meet you.”

She paused again. “Will you please just admit that you’re basically his son?”

“Will that make you say yes?”

“…Sure.”

“He’s basically my dad.”

“I was gonna say yes either way,” she admitted.

I laughed. “You’re a ridiculous woman.”

“It was your suggestion! Anyways, I gotta get back to work. I’ll see you later, tiger.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I smiled the rest of the work day.

\---

Happy picked MJ and I up from the penthouse in the evening. MJ was already nervous as hell, but seeing the Audi Happy drove, a good couple of years newer (and therefore fancier) than the company car I drove on occasion, it made her eyes widen more than I’d ever seen.

He stepped out of the car and approached us, smiling.

“Pete, good to see you. You haven’t gotten yourself killed yet.”

I laughed. “No, no I have not. It’s okay, you don’t need to hide your disappointment.”

Happy chuckled, and turned his attention to MJ.

“And you must be the girl we’ve all heard so much about.”

She shot me a glance.

I was gonna hear about that later.

She extended a hand, smiling cooly. “I’m MJ. Or, um, Michelle, but most people just call me MJ.”

“MJ it is. Nice to meet you. I’m Happy.”

Her smile faltered just a little, and she tilted her head in confusion.

“It’s my name. Happy. Well, my actual, God-given name is Harold, but everyone calls me Happy.”

I stared at him. “Your legal name is Harold?”

He blinked. “Did you think my legal name was Happy?”

“Yeah! What do you mean it’s not your legal name?”

MJ smirked.

“Kid, my- let’s get in the car and then we can hash this out on the way upstate.”

I wanted to be stubborn and protest, but it was chilly out, so I opened the door for MJ and we got into the car.

“So, MJ, how did you two meet? Peter has been avoiding that question for weeks.”

MJ froze. “Oh, um, through a friend of a friend.”

“How’d that happen?” he pressed.

MJ shot me a panicked glance. “Um, well, my co-worker, Betty, is friends with Peter’s friend, Liz, so then Betty and Liz started inviting me out for girl’s night, and that was…how we met.”

I mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her.

“Oh, that’s…sort of sweet.”

“I feel like you’re avoiding to Harold thing,” I said. “I’ve known you for over a decade and you have never bothered to share your legal name with me?”

Happy sighed. “It just never came up, kid.”

I ran with it, keeping the subject as far away from MJ and I’s first interaction as possible. “What if you were in the hospital or something? I’d get a call and they’d be like, ‘Hey, your friend Harold is dying.’ And I’d be like, ‘Wrong number, good luck,’ and then I’d never see you again!”

“Do you think you’re my emergency contact?”

“Am I not?”

“Why would you be my emergency contact, Peter?”

“Because you love me? Because you think I’m adorable and scruffy and the exact kind of comic relief you want at your deathbed?”

“Do you want me to add you as an emergency contact? Would that end this conversation?”

“Well, not if that’s why you’re adding me as an emergency contact!”

Happy paused, and then looked at MJ in the rearview mirror. “Did you know this was what you were getting yourself into?”

She laughed. “Yes, yes I did.”

He gave a little “Hmmpf,” and then turned on the radio and changed the subject.

About an hour later, he dropped us off at Mr. Stark’s place, and Morgan ran out to greet us.

“Peter!”

She gave me one of the more aggressive hugs she was known for.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

“You could visit me more,” she said, pulling away and crossing her arms.

I shrugged. “You can blame MJ here for sucking up all my time.”

“Hey!” MJ gave me a playful smack, and I laughed, shielding myself.

Morgan grinned. “Alright, come in. I wanna figure out exactly how much I like MJ more than you.” She grabbed MJ’s hand, and pulled her inside.

MJ laughed and shrugged at me. I feigned offence before I went after them.

Morgan led us to the kitchen, where Tony was topping off his whiskey and Pepper was stirring a sauce. They both perked up, but Tony stepped forward to greet us.

“So she does exist,” he teased, and MJ chuckled a little, soundlessly. “I was beginning to have my doubts.”

He extended a hand, and MJ shook it. “Michelle, but everyone calls me MJ.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m sure Peter’s introduced me as Mr. Stark, but you can call me Tony.”

She nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Pepper chimed in, glancing over her shoulder. “Hi! Sorry, just finishing up. Morgan, can you come over here and stir for a second so it doesn’t burn?”

“Sure.”

Pepper and Morgan traded places, and Pepper came over to introduce herself, smiling and adjusting her apron.

“It’s really great to meet you MJ. We’ve heard so much about you.” Pepper hesitated, but hugged her. “All good things, don’t worry.”

Oh, boy. Second mention of how much I talk about her.

Pepper pulled away, adjusting her apron again. “Sorry, I meant to have dinner ready a little early, rather than a little late, but _someone’s_ pet robot kept trying to sabotage me.”

She glared at Tony, who put his hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me! I warned DUM-E, it’s not my fault he doesn’t listen.”

MJ was looking to the corner, and I followed her gaze. DUM-E was sitting there, wearing a party hat with “dunce” written on it in Sharpie.

“Dad, I think her point is that you should maybe leave him in the garage next time,” Morgan said, still stirring whatever was on the stove.

“He’s useful if there’s an actual fire, is all I’m saying,” Tony defended. “But that’s not important. Let’s get started with drinks, at least. Wine?”

MJ jumped a little when he addressed her, and then nodded. “Thank you.”

“Same for you, Pete?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Tony poured us drinks, and we all settled around the table, one by one, Pepper joining us last and dishing out pasta and meatballs and some of the richest sauce I’d ever had.

MJ fit in easily, quickly finding a banter rhythm with Morgan and Tony, and ganging up with Pepper to tease me.

Dinner ran long, which was good because the conversation was flowing and MJ was getting along with everyone, but it meant we were late leaving. Tony didn’t wanna call Happy to drive us back so late, so he gave me the keys to one of his cars, and sent us off with a death threat if I got a scratch on it.

MJ plugged in her phone and started up some music as we pulled out of the garage.

“Do you think they liked me?”

“I know they did,” I assured her.

She smiled, humming a little. “Good. I was worried.”

“Everyone loves you. May, the Starks, me.” I took my right hand off the wheel and slipped it into hers.

“Cheesy.”

“True.”

“I love you too.” She lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles.

I couldn’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the patience w getting this chapter out. hopefully it wont be upwards of a month before the next chapter is out :')

**Author's Note:**

> [click here](https://caramelcaramelcaramel.carrd.co/) for all my socials + early access to fics and a lil bonus content!


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